


Hope is the answer

by theLazyTraveler



Category: Legacies (TV 2018), The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/F, Hizzie anchor AU, Lizzie is the only one who remembers Hope
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2020-03-29 22:04:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19028848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theLazyTraveler/pseuds/theLazyTraveler
Summary: Several months after Malivore is mysteriously defeated life at the Salvatore school seems to be back to normal. But not for Lizzie, who is the only one to seek answers to all the unanswered questions that have piled up in the last couple of months.Once she starts having dreams of alternate realities and talking about someone named Hope that no one else seems to remember she is worried she is losing her mind. But the more Lizzie looks into some of the inconsistencies, the more she realises that these are not just dreams, and that Hope Mikaelson might be the answer to all of her questions.





	1. Something is missing

**Author's Note:**

> I am obsessed with the AU of Lizzie being the only one to remember Hope and save her. So much so that I have decided to attempt to write my own take on it. I have actually roughly planned out the way this will go, so if this is something y'all find interesting, drop me a comment and I will continue.  
> Any constructive criticism is very welcome, I am new to writing and appreciate any pointers!  
> Also if anyone is interested in beta-ing, hit me up. Im the-lazy-traveller on tumblr dot com

It's been three months since Landon had come back from the Triad headquarters, having resurrected with no memory of who killed him, or how Malivore had magically dried out. After about a month of waiting for the other shoe to drop, of looking over their shoulders for another monster, or Triad soldiers, everyone at the Salvatore school seemed to have calmed down and moved on; everyone but Lizzie Saltzman.

Lizzie has been slowly losing her mind over the last couple of months. At first, something about the way everything with Malivore got resolved just didn't seem to add up, and the fact that everyone else had accepted it all so easily really frustrated her. Then the dreams started.

Lizzie has been having dreams about what seemed to be alternate realities. There was one where the school was breaking down, with hardly any new recruits coming in to teach and her father spent entirely too much time with her and Josie, which somehow seemed out of place (even though he spent as much time with them in their waking hours).  
Then there was one where the school didn't even exist, and Lizzie and Josie went to Mystic Falls high school, where Josie was apparently the Queen Bee and Lizzie a social outcast with mental problems. Oh, and their dad was a drunk history teacher at the school.

Worst of all was the one dream she had about a reality where Josie was dead, and Lizzie was the one that killed her. When she dreamed about this reality, Lizzie usually woke up with her heart racing, and tears streaming down her face after she saw all her friends fight and lose their lives in a war against all supernatural beings.

At first, Lizzie paid these dreams no mind. Chalked it up to a delayed reaction to all the monsters they had been faced with. But soon, she had these dreams every night, and they kept feeling more and more real. And the more often she had them, the more details she seemed to remember. A flash of red hair. A sarcastic comment aimed at her. A thumb wiping away blood from the corner of a smirking mouth.

All these realities, or memories, or whatever they were, had two things in common. The started with Lizzie making a wish to get rid of a girl named Hope and ended with her regretting that wish. Either Hope somehow managed to get back into her life, or she simply didn't exist, and the world fell apart.

The worst part was that this Hope didn't seem to exist at all outside her dreams. She always seemed so important in her dreams. Everyone knew her, or of her; the all-powerful tribrid; the tragic orphan; the pain in Lizzie ass. Yet when Lizzie woke up, and tried to find any trace of Hope, or asked around if anyone knew who she was- there was nothing. And talking about some girl no one has heard of certainly earned her some sideways glances. Yet Lizzie knew, for once in her life without a shadow of a doubt that she was not crazy. Not about Hope.

The more she looked, the more she realised there was an empty space to be filled; in her life, in the school, in the world in general. So many things didn't have an explanation.

Like why had Klaus Michelson donated so much money to help get this school started? Or how had Josie survived a bullet made from Malivore?  
How had Raphael become a wolf permanently, and why could no one turn him back?

Why was there an empty room in the attic, with some girl's clothes and books, but no pictures or school records to show who lived there? Lizzie had claimed it as her own due to the strained relationship the two twins were having since they had found out about the merge, and being there had always made her feel as if she could almost remember Hope existing in the space.  
How had MG not died from a werewolf bite? And most importantly, and bizarrely, what on earth caused Malivore to just up and evaporate into seemingly thin air?

Somehow none of these questions bothered anyone else at Salvatore school, but they sure bothered Lizzie. And the more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that her dreams weren't just dreams, and that Hope was the answer to all these questions.

Considering both MG and Josie got healed by some mysterious blood that no one could remember the origins of, Lizzie deduced that Hope must be Klaus Mikaelson's daughter, which would make her blood have similar healing properties to his. It would also explain his donation to the school, and possibly even why he was dead. The room was also most likely Hope's. Lizzie didn't know how Hope fitted into the remaining questions, but she could feel that somehow she was the answer to them too.

This realisation had left only one thing for Lizzie to do- go to New Orleans to pay a visit to the remaining Mikaelsons and see if perhaps they could help her figure out what on earth was going on.

So one night, Lizzie snuck into her dad's office to find in his "secret" supernatural registry where in New Orleans the Mikaelson residence was. She packed enough clothes for a few days, grabbing a sweatshirt with Mikaelson printed on the back after some consideration. She reasoned that she might be able to use it to convince the terrifying ancient witches and vampires of the Mikaelson family that she wasn't completely mental showing up at their house talking about some girl none of them could remember.

What Lizzie didn't want to admit to herself, was that she was taking it because she'd been sleeping in the sweatshirt for some weird reason since moving into what she was now positive was Hope's room. The smell seemed almost painfully familiar, and even though the feeling of a memory just beyond her reach was almost painful, it still provided some inexplicable comfort. After a couple of days, the smell was gone, but Lizzie kept wearing the sweatshirt, all the while resolutely avoiding thinking about why on earth she was doing that and how weird and creepy it probably was.

At four in the morning on Saturday, just after the last of the stragglers of the unofficially official Friday night party sneak into their rooms to sleep the Saturday away Lizzie makes her way out of the school grounds, slipping past the protection spells she had helped cast. With any luck, it will be this evening at the earliest that anyone comes looking for her and realises she's gone, by which point she would have hopefully made her way to New Orleans.

 

* * *

 

Lizzie arrived in New Orleans about fifteen hours later. She had gotten into the first car that had stopped for her, and after casting a spell on the creepy looking driver, made him drive her all the way to New Orleans.

Around about hour five on the road, Lizzie began to seriously question what the hell she was doing. Running away from school in the dead of night, to drive across the country to seek out the most ancient and powerful supernatural family to ask them, what? To help her find a girl that no one but Lizzie remembers that she is pretty sure is part of the Mikaelson family?

None of her memories about Hope were even pleasant. She remembers repeatedly wishing for the other girl to be gone from her life. Remembers the anger and irritation and something else, burning hot in the pit of her stomach, when she ended up back in her life no matter how Lizzie wished for her to be gone.

Worst of all, she remembered the world where Hope never existed. Just thinking about the look in her father's eyes when he told her that she killed Josie was enough to make her want to cry. Even the memory of Penelope's angry, broken gaze made her feel guilty.

So, how was Lizzie to explain all of that to Hope's family? Why was Lizzie the only one to remember her? Somehow she doubted that telling Rebekah and Freya Mikaelson that she wished for their forgotten niece to disappear, and then she kind of did, would go over well with them.

Best case scenario they will slam the door in her face, worst case… Well, she didn't want to think about that. Lizzie was all too familiar with the horror stories about the Mikaelsons.

Lizzie thought about getting the man to turn around and just going home. She could probably still get back before anyone noticed she was even gone. But something stopped her from giving up.

Something deep in her gut, telling her she had to find Hope. Remember her. Really remember her, not just the alternate reality versions of her that kept haunting Lizzie in her dreams every night.

Knowing that she was missing memories, not being able to explain certain feelings and things in her life was driving her mad.

It was like trying to remember a spell, being able to picture it on the page in a grimoire, knowing precisely what it will do, almost hearing the words in your mind and just not being able to grasp them fully.

Only this was so much worse. Almost painful. Thinking about Hope gave Lizzie a headache, yet she couldn't stop.

So she had to keep going.

 

* * *

 

Hope was surrounded by nothing. There was no light, no sound, no smell. Absolutely nothing she could latch on to but her thoughts.

She had read about sensory deprivation. A little bit of light reading before bed. Lizzie had scoffed at her when she saw the book, calling her a sociopath. The comment had seemed uncalled for to Hope, just like most of Lizzie’s comments. In retrospect, it kind of made sense though. Torture by sensory deprivation had always seemed absurd to her before. The fact that mere absence of anything could break someone. There was no pain, so what was there to complain about?

Now she understood.

She had no idea how long she had been in Malivore. Didn’t even know if her plan had worked and she had destroyed it. At least that would have given her some peace, something to hold onto. At least then she was the hero like Lizzie told her to be. Of course, no one would remember, but she’d know.

There was nothing.

At first, Hope had tried to scream, struggle, move. She had quickly realised there was no point. There was no one to yell at, she couldn’t even hear her own voice. No point in moving, there was nothing to move towards, nothing to struggle against.

Soon she began to hallucinate. She had read about that too, that after too long without any stimuli, the brain begins to make things up. She started hearing voices and seeing things move in the darkness around her.

Maybe going mad wouldn’t be so bad. At least then she won’t be so alone.

Maybe if she waited some more, soon she would start to hear the voices of the people she had left behind, and perhaps she will even see them.

Maybe, her brain will eventually construct a whole new reality around her, and she wouldn’t even be able to tell that none of it was real.

That was a dangerous road to go down.

So Hope waited. And thought. And tried to reach out with her magic, her consciousness, feeling stupid but hoping that maybe if she did really defeat Malivore, and was simply stuck in some hellish dimension, she might be able to reach someone in the real world.

So Hope, true to her name, kept going. Kept reaching out with her magic as far as she could, trying to come across anyone familiar. Or anyone at all.

After what seemed like years, or maybe only minutes, it was hard to tell time in total darkness, Hope sensed something.

Either she was finally going crazy, or she really could reach out beyond this dimension to someone on the outside.

This person… They seemed familiar. Hope wasn’t even sure what she was doing. Was she reaching out with her magic? Her consciousness? Her soul?

Whatever it was, it seemed to be working. Hope was tugging at them, calling them to her, knocking against the wall that the magic of Malivore had put up around her entire existence. And the wall seemed to be cracking.

At first, Hope thought it must have been Landon she found. Surely their connection, their love had led her to him, and now Landon will remember her.

After a while, she realised it wasn’t Landon after all. No, this person somehow seemed even more familiar. They had magic, and Hope knew that magic. Had felt it many times, pulling on her own, feeding off of it.

Hope had found Lizzie Saltzman. And Lizzie was struggling to remember her.

Hope felt it. That wall, surrounding her existence, shielding it from everyone she loves, it was almost weaker around Lizzie. There were cracks and stones missing, and Hope could almost peer through. See Lizzie’s consciousness, struggling to understand, to remember, to reach through and grasp her hand.

So Hope banged against it harder. Screamed louder. Pushed all of her magic against it and prayed that Lizzie would understand. That Lizzie will look for her.

 

* * *

 

Lizzie’s headache was only getting worse. Now it was just a constant buzz in the back of her skull, sometimes getting worse, others barely noticeable, but always there.

After 15 hours in a car with a bewitched driver, Lizzie was about ready to jump out of the passenger door window.

Taking a nap didn’t help. All she could see when she closed her eyes was Hope. Hope staring at her with disdain, wiping blood from the corner of her mouth and dropping another drained body onto a pile of lifeless forms surrounding her.

Hope, stepping out of a sports car, in a skin-tight leotard, like some kind of knock-off X-men suit, smirking at Josie, barely sparing Lizzie a glance.

Hope, Hope, Hope.

It’s like she was always there, in the back of her mind, like that goddamned headache. Or maybe she Hope was the headache.

Lizzie jerked awake as she felt the car stop. She looked over at her driver, who was staring blankly through the windshield. They must have reached the French Quarter in New Orleans, the destination that Lizzie chanted in her spell when she first got into the car.

Lizzie realised the car was parked outside the Mikaelson compound or at least the house that was listed as such in her father’s supernatural registry.

She quickly got out of the car, grabbing her bag from the back seat. Leaning back down to peer through the window, Lizzie whispered a few words, ending the spell she had put on the man. He looked over, completely bewildered.  
Lizzie smiled sweetly, “Thank you so much for giving me a lift! You really are a life saver!”

Without waiting for a reply, which she was sure would not be as enthusiastic as hers, Lizzie turned around and walked towards the front door of the Mikaelson house.

Now, standing outside her destination in the humid New Orleans night, Lizzie felt her heartbeat quicken. It had all suddenly become very real. She was about to knock on the door of the family that ruled this town with some crazy tale of a lost relative that no one could remember.

Just as Lizzie was about to raise her hand and knock, her phone rang.

The sound startled her so much she nearly dropped her phone. With shaky fingers, Lizzie pressed accept and waited for her father to start yelling at her.

Instead, she heard Josie voice on the phone.

“Where the hell are you Lizzie?”- came Josie’s irritated voice through the speaker.

The twins haven’t been on the best of terms lately, given all the recent developments. Josie still hadn’t forgiven Lizzie for not telling her about Penelope leaving, even though Satan incarnate had come back to Salvatore school barely a month later. Caroline had sent her back after she tried to ditch her new witch school and join the vampire on her quest for answers about the Merge.

The grudge wasn’t one sided though. Lizzie still hadn’t forgiven Josie for… Something she couldn’t quite remember. The blond had a sneaking suspicion it had something to do with Hope, even though when she had brought it up with Josie, her twin had looked at her like she was finally completely losing her mind.

Lizzie bit her lip, considering her answer. Finally, she decided to go with the truth.

“New Orleans.”- the blond stared plainly.

She was met with silence from the other end of the line. Josie was probably in shock, or waiting for the punch line.

“I’m sorry, you’re not joking?”- Josie laughed incredulously.

“No. I’m in New Orleans, and... And I need you to cover for me with dad.”- Lizzie thought that was a long shot, but no point beating around the bush now.

“Even forgetting for the moment that I’m not currently mad at you, what exactly do you expect me to tell dad, Lizzie?”

“Look, I know we’re not exactly on the best terms right now, Jo. But this is very important to me, and I need your help. I need my twin.”- Lizzie held her breath. Even when the girls were on the worst terms, they had always had each other’s backs, and Lizzie hoped this time she hadn’t pushed Josie too far.

“That’s not fair Lizzie. You know I can’t say no when you put it like that. Even though I really want to. I can’t keep covering for you, and taking care of you anymore. No more codependency, we both agreed.”

So Josie was more mad than Lizzie anticipated. She supposed she should have expected this response, especially since Penelope had finally revealed why she broke up with Josie in the first place. With the news about the Merge on top of that, Josie was really pushing back in her relationship with Lizzie. Even though the blond supposed it was warranted, she also felt like sometimes Josie overcompensated.

Like right now.

“Look, Jo, I get that. And I agree, but this isn’t just me asking you to cover for me so I can hang out with a boy, or go to a party. I wouldn’t be asking if I wasn’t desperate. This is very important to me.” Lizzie took a deep breath, blinking away tears that have suddenly sprung to her eyes. “I know you and dad think I’m finally losing my mind completely-“

“Lizzie, we don’t...”

“No, let me finish. I know that’s what you’re thinking, even if you won’t say it. I see the looks you and dad share whenever I bring up all the things that don’t add up. There are so many unanswered questions, Jo, and I can’t just leave it alone. It’s like there is something, or someone, that won’t let me give up. And I know you think these dreams aren’t real, but honestly, after everything that’s happened with Malivore and it’s barrage of monsters, is this really so hard to believe?”

Lizzie took a deep breath after her speech, waiting for her sister’s reply with baited breath.

Josie sighed- “Ok. I’ll cover for you, if it’s really this important. But you better be careful, and you will have to tell dad soon, you know I can’t lie to him for long.”

Lizzie smiled, relieved. “Thank you so much Jo, you have no idea how much this means to me. I’ll tell dad as soon as I even have anything to tell. The Mikaelson are probably just going to slam the door in my face when I try to tell them about Hope...”

“Did you just say Hope?”- came in a British drawl from behind Lizzie. A not entirely friendly voice, and one that certainly commanded attention.

Lizzie turned around slowly, coming face to face with none other than Rebekah Mikaelson. Somehow, she was even more intimidating in person, Lizzie could very easily believe all the stories she read about the blond vampire standing in front of her now. Power seemed to radiate from her, and she didn’t look too happy with what she overheard Lizzie speaking about.

Josie’s voice carried through the phone, but Lizzie was too distracted.

“I’ll talk to you later Jo.” -Lizzie ended the call, slowly bringing her phone away from her ear, all the while maintaining eye contact with Rebekah. . She had an uncomfortable feeling that she looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“Well?”- Rebekah raised her eyebrow expectantly, seizing the smaller witch up. She reeked of fear, but underneath that, there was something else. A certain determination.

“Well what?”- Lizzie tried to play dumb, which in itself was an ill advised course of action.

“You just said something about telling my family about Hope, what did you mean. What do you know about Hope?”

“You know who that is?”- Lizzie was caught off guard. Rebekah sounded like she knew who Hope was and Lizzie has not considered the possibility of that.

“I know that Hope is my niece. There are pictures of her all over the house, diary entries, videos of her growing up. I also know that neither I nor my sister remember her, so you better start talking little witch.”

“Well...” Lizzie cleared her throat, this was harder than she thought it was going to be. “I don’t really... I have dreams about her. About Hope. They’re, well... they’re kind of not from this reality. And no one else remembers her at school. But there are too many things that don’t add up, and I started having those dreams and I just thought... Well, I’m pretty sure Hope is the answer to those questions, so I came here because I was hoping you might know something else...”

Lizzie shifted from one foot to another, her heart racing. Rebekah’s face was inscrutable as she studied the young witch, trying to see what angle she was playing. The vampire could hear the girl’s heart beating frantically, and decided that if she did have some agenda beyond finding out about Hope her and Freya could handle it.

“All-right little witch, you better come in and tell all of that to Freya and Keelin. And spare no detail.”

Rebekah turned around and made her way towards the door of the house they were stood in front of. Once she was halfway through the door, she looked over her shoulder at the witch, who was stood stock still on the pavement, looking unsure.

“Well, little witch, are you coming in to talk about that niece of mine that you are somehow the only one to remember?”


	2. In the lion's den

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lizzie has a talk with Freya and Rebekah.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... it has been a while. I felt like I was writing quite a lot, but when I looked at the word count and what actually happens in the chapter, it was disappointingly brief. I am definitely starting to appreciate fic writers who update regularly so much more after trying to write one myself.  
> I am hoping the next chapter will be more substantial and also more timely.  
> As always, constructive criticism and just thoughts in general are very welcome!  
> Enjoy :)

The door slammed shut behind Lizzie with a sense of finality. This was it, no going back now.

Lizzie took a tentative step further into the house, her eyes dancing around the entryway of the Mikaelson residence. Paintings and family photos lined the walls, and upon closer inspection, Lizzie could tell that the people in the photos that seemed to be separated by many decades were the same. She guessed the Mikaelsons had no need to be subtle about their immortality in their own home.

After a few seconds, the blond witch realised that some photos were missing, the empty spaces on the wall drawing her eye and making the pounding in the back of her head intensify. It was almost as if all of this seemed familiar, this house, these photos- it all invoked a strange feeling of déjà vu, yet Lizzie knew she had never stepped foot in this house.

Tearing her gaze away from the walls, Lizzie realised that Rebekah had moved further into the house, leaving her behind. The witch sped up, following the sound of the vampire's steps retreating into the bowels of the mansion.

Coming into a large, dark room Lizzie was greeted with a sight that resembled the library at the Salvatore boarding school during exam season. Pictures, grimoires, half-empty coffee mugs littered every available surface. Discarded notes on spells and curses littered the floor, and an exhausted-looking woman was sat slumped on one of the sofas, surrounded by the mess.

Lizzie made her way into the room cautiously, her gaze flitting about the scene, taking it all in. She figured the other woman sat in the room must be Rebekah's sister, and consequently another one of Hope's aunts- Freya.

The books surrounding the older witch were more ancient than Lizzie's entire family history. She could feel the tension and frustration coming off of the Mikaelsons in waves, permeating the space around them and soaking into every crevice of the room.

Yet the sight of them ruffled and frustrated over their futile research efforts somehow warmed her heart. There was that feeling of familiarity again, the one she got when looking at photos of the Mikaelsons. It felt foreign, like the headache in the back of her head, like it was someone else describing their feelings to her.

Lizzie was startled from her thoughts when she realised that the two other women have finally turned their attention to her.

Rebekah had filled Freya in on what she overheard the girl talking about outside their house, namely that the younger witch seemed to remember Hope when no one else could.

"So, Rebekah tells me you can remember Hope or a version of her at least."- Freya says cautiously, seizing Lizzie up.

The young witch seemed nervous and uncomfortable with occupying space in their house. Yet, after only a few minutes of observing her, Freya could tell there was also something strangely familiar about her. It was almost like Freya could instinctively recognise Lizzie's magic, despite being aware that she was a siphoner and therefore had no magic of her own. The young witch seemed lost in her own head, looking around with caution, as if she was familiar with the things surrounding her but couldn't figure out how or why.

Lizzie shrunk almost imperceptibly under the penetrating gazes of Hope's aunts. They were aware that something, or rather someone was missing from their life that much was clear. Unlike at school, here, the remnants of Hope were visible all over the house, definitive proof that she had existed, even if no one could remember her. The photos that were missing from the walls lied scattered across the room, in between old spell books and notes. The girl from Lizzie's dreams was in all of them.

Some photos were of a younger girl, not the one Lizzie saw in her dreams, yet still somehow familiar. Lizzie knew it was Hope because that itch in the back of her head seemed to intensify the longer she looked at the photos. The blond averted her eyes before her vision started to blur from the effort of trying to remember something she seems to not know in the first place.

"Yes, well… As I already told…"- Lizzie paused uncertainly. What does one call an ancient vampire whose apparently non-existent niece you seem to be the only one able to remember? Lizzie decided to simply nod in Rebekah's direction. "I don't really remember Hope, at least not from this universe. It sounds dumb, I know. Everyone at school thinks I'm finally losing my mind because there is no sign of Hope having ever existed, but…" Lizzie gestured vaguely around the room, her eyes falling once more on the photos scattered around, "Clearly she does. Or did."

Freya and Rebekah exchange a glance that seems to communicate a lot. Lizzie feels like a lot if being said about her with that glance. Freya's lips turn up in the slightest hint of a smile as if she knew something Lizzie didn't.

"Nothing sounds crazy to us at this point, little witch. How about you take a seat and start from the beginning. Perhaps you would first explain to us who you are, and how exactly you know Hope, even when we don't."

Lizzie made her way over to the couch directly opposite the two sisters. Not that she imagined the ornate coffee table sat between them would serve as much protection if the Mikaelsons decided they didn't like what Lizzie had to say about Hope and how she knows her.

Once seated Lizzie takes a moment to collect her thoughts. Somehow even after hours driving across state lines in a car, she had still not formulated a coherent explanation for what is going on. She can't even explain her thoughts and feelings on the situation to herself, and now she must do so for two incredibly powerful and ancient supernaturals.

After a pointed glare from Rebekah, Lizzie decided to bite the bullet and just start talking in hopes that whatever she comes up with made sense. It seemed to have work for her until now anyway.

Lizzie started by telling Freya and Rebekah about Malivore and what she knew about it. As soon as she mentioned the monster destroying pit, recognition sparked in Freya's eyes. Lizzie went on to recount the monsters they have had to face at the school recently, mentioning the way most of them vanished without anyone remembering how or who defeated them. Then Lizzie described the Triad invasion, her twin Josie being shot by a Malivore bullet and then being mysteriously healed, once again with no explanation. Lizzie talked about MG, her vampire friend who somehow survived a werewolf bite. That reminded her of Raphael, who was stuck in his wolf form, unable to turn back.

Lizzie took a deep breath, realising that she had been talking for quite a while. One thing seemed to lead to another, all of them without explanation.

"So, I don't know if any of that made sense to you. It doesn't to me, and I think that's because there is a common factor missing in all of this. Yet no one at the school seems to find it as odd and frustrating as I do. If I didn't know any better, I would think they've all been compelled."

Lizzie trailed off, looking at the two women opposite her for a reaction. They had been pretty composed throughout her tale, save for a few flickers of recognition or confusion here and there.

Freya took a deep breath, processing everything that the young witch had said. A few things had made sense, like the werewolf who was stuck in his wolf form. That must have come from Hope's mother's pack. The Mikaelson sisters had deduced early on that she must have been the mother of Klaus's child, based on the memories that they did have.

Some things made a lot less sense, like the mysterious healing of werewolf bites and Malivore bullets. It was clear from Hope's parentage that she would have been incredibly powerful; however, it seemed that she had some abilities that Freya didn't even imagine possible a few minutes ago.

Having processed most of what Lizzie said, and filing the rest away for later consideration, Freya finally replied, "Some of what you have said I can offer an explanation for, other things were a bit more unexpected. Mostly, I am still wondering how you were the only one to question these inconsistencies. And even more so, I am wondering why you cared so much to come all the way here and seek us out. Which, by the way, some might argue was a very foolish move for a young witch such as yourself. Our family is not exactly known for its hospitality."

From Freya's side, Rebekah snorted quite unceremoniously. For all her old age mannerisms, sometimes Freya's sister seemed very much the 20-something-year-old bratty millennial that she looked like on the outside.

"That, dear sister, is quite possibly the understatement of the century. But I agree with your concerns, dear sister." Rebekah turned her gaze onto Lizzie, "You, little witch, have still failed to explain what exactly your relationship with our niece was and why you are so invested in finding her? Were you and Hope lovers?"

The sisters watched in thinly veiled amusement as Lizzie chocked on an inhale at Rebekah's question, turning a bright shade of red. Somewhere deep-down Rebekah felt a pang for her long-missing emotionality of youth, there was something charming about being so affected by a mere insinuation of romantic involvement. It was clear to the vampire from the way Lizzie talked about Hope, that she cared about her niece in some way, yet she could also detect confusion and apprehension from the younger witch about her own feelings. That just made her all the more curious to hear about these memories of an alternate reality that Lizzie had mentioned as the source of her memories.

Freya had clearly come to the same conclusion as she asked Lizzie about the memories, without giving the poor girl time to get over her embarrassment at Rebekah's comment.

Lizzie took a deep breath. Her ever-present headache had only gotten worse the more she talked about Hope. The pounding in the back of her head had grown more insistent, almost frantic. Lizzie briefly imagined someone desperately knocking on a door, only the door was her head, and it was starting to hurt unbearably.

As Lizzie tried to collect her thoughts to tell Freya and Rebekah about her dreams in a way that would make sense, her vision started to blur, and she heard a high-pitched ringing in her ears. Lizzie imagined that the ringing sounded almost more like someone shouting.

As she looked over at the blurry silhouettes of the Mikaelsons, about to ask for a glass of water, she was surprised to see alarm and concern on their faces. Before she was able to ask them what was wrong, Lizzie's vision went dark.

At least the pounding finally stopped.

 

* * *

_It was dark. And empty. That was the only word that came to mind. A strange absence of any sound, even the ambient background noise that is always present._

_Lizzie opened her eyes and had to blink a few times because nothing had changed. For a second, she was terrified that she had somehow gone blind. Maybe Freya had gotten fed up with her and cursed her with blindness._

_Then she felt a presence. It felt like the pounding in her head did, but now somehow it was all around her, not just in her head._

_Lizzie tried to move, to say something, to touch something. She was starting to panic._

_Suddenly she felt a calming presence. Familiar magic was enveloping her. The siphoner could feel it coursing all around her, and passing through her, and she calmed down. There was still no sound, light or tactile sensations, it was as if she was suspended in a pitch-black liquid. But magic was like a sixth sense for a witch, and even more so for a siphoner._

_And this magic, well. This magic Lizzie knew very well. It was the magic she had felt hovering in the periphery of her mind. The same magic that was the cause of her headaches she now realised._

_It was Hope._

 

* * *

 

_Hope was exhausted. She had never stretched and tested her magical capacities quite as much before. Truth be told, she was always low key under the impression that her magic was limitless._

_That was certainly what Lizzie had described it as after she had siphoned from Hope for the first time. At the time, she didn't mean it as a compliment, more like a throwaway comment of how Hope was so perfect and superior to everyone else once again._

_Hope had mixed feelings about that statement._

_Now though, well… Now she had come to test her limits, and she was very glad indeed for her limitless, or near enough, supplies of magic._

_Hope had felt immediately when Lizzie had stepped into her house in New Orleans. It was rife with memories and familiar magics._

_She had started to pound harder, calling out to Lizzie with renewed vigour._

_Surely now she can also reach her aunts, Freya especially. Her magic would be so powerful, and now that she was so close, Hope could reach her._

_Freya would definitely be more aware of her presence than Lizzie was. Purely because the older witch was much more cautious and experienced. She would no doubt not take lightly to a foreign presence in her head, but hopefully (no pun intended) once she realised that it was her niece Freya wouldn't be as wrathful._

_But for some reason, no matter how hard Hope tried, she couldn't feel anyone beyond Lizzie. It was the strangest sensation. She was aware that she was in her house, that her aunts were there, and it all felt so familiar. Yet she was feeling all of this through Lizzie rather than for herself._

_Hope couldn't see or hear their conversation exactly, but she got glimpses and impressions. Vague feelings emanating from Lizzie- apprehension, confusion, mild panic, determination. It was quite overwhelming, the blond witch felt so much, and so strongly that Hope was simply not used to it. The tribrid had been suppressing her feelings for years now; staying calm, collected, always aware of her own power._

_Sometimes Hope wondered what it would be like to let go so entirely like Lizzie did. Sure, it was destructive, and maybe not the healthiest coping mechanism, but by god, if she didn't imagine it was satisfying as hell._

_Now though… now Hope finally felt what it was like to be at your limit. To strain against an invisible barrier, and feel like you have exhausted all your reserves. In the all-consuming nothingness of Malivore, that was almost a good feeling. If only it also didn't make her feel incompetent and helpless._

_She kept pushing through, banging on the walls of Lizzie's consciousness, trying to reach out, to make her presence known. Screaming until her throat became raw, and then screaming some more._

_Hope had been doing it so long, it felt like she has always been doing it. Had existed from the beginning of time in this nothingness, pushing against an immovable wall._

_Until the wall moved. Until she felt something give, and all of her power surged through the breaks into Lizzie's consciousness._

_Relief didn't last long, though. In fact, Hope didn't even have time to feel it because she realised almost immediately that Lizzie couldn't handle that much power all at once. That is simply not something her body was used to, even if she was a siphoner._

_Just as Lizzie's defences had given, so did her entire consciousness a few seconds later._

_Hope had thought with dread that she must have killed Lizzie._

_And like a turtle drawing it's limbs back into its shell for protection, Hope pulled all her magic back into herself, curling into a foetal position and shutting off completely. This… this is not something she could deal with for all eternity._

_So much for her heroic sacrifice to save everyone from Malivore. Now, to save herself, she had killed Lizzie. At least Alaric and Josie don't know who she was anymore, they wouldn't know who to blame. Wouldn't be cursing her name for the rest of their lives._

_Being forgotten had been Hope's biggest nightmare when she first woke up in the empty nothingness of Malivore. Now, it was the only thing she could hold onto._

 

* * *

 

 

Lizzie came to very slowly. Blinking her eyes open, after having heard her name called, as if from underwater.

At first, she thought she was starting to hallucinate, it felt like she had been in the utter nothingness for hours. Or maybe days. It was hard to tell the passage of time.

At first, she had been surrounded by Hope's magic, it was swirling all around her, grounding her, calming her down. But then, the magic seemed to seep away, somewhere off to the side, as if someone had sucked it all away with a very powerful vacuum.

After that, her senses had nothing to latch onto.

So when Lizzie started to hear a distant voice calling her name, she was convinced it was a hallucination. She didn't even have the energy to open her eyes. And what was the point anyway, not like opening her eyes would make a difference.

Lizzie felt a hand on her shoulder, gently squeezing, and that voice again. Stronger now. At first, she thought it might be Hope. Something about the intonation, the sound of it seemed so painfully familiar. Then Lizzie remembered that Hope was in Malivore and that she had gone to the Mikaelson house in New Orleans to see if there was a way to get her out.

The Mikaelson house… Lizzie felt a spike of adrenaline and her eyes flew open out of instinct. But instead of the darkness that she was used to Lizzie was suddenly blinded by light streaming through a giant window, covered by a light tulle curtain opposite the bed she was in.

A woman stood to her side, peering intently down at her.

Lizzie turned her head, her eyes still adjusting to the light, squinting up into the face of none other than Freya Mikaelson.

"Nice to see you're still alive little witch, you're tougher than you look, I'll give you that." Freya smiles down at Lizzie, with what almost looks like a fond look, before she quickly schools her features back into the patented Mikaelson poker face.

So that's where Hope gets it, Lizzie thought briefly. Then frowned at her own thought, as if she could remember Hope that well.

"What…" Lizzie tried to speak but quickly realised how dry her throat was. She sounded like she smoked two packs a day for fifty years. Clearing her throat, the siphoner tries again, "What happened? Why… Why do I feel like a truck ran me over, and then ran me over again?"

Lizzie rolled her eyes at herself. Hopefully, her affinity for cutting one-liners she had oh-so-carefully cultivated to seem effortless and organic will return to her once she starts to feel more like herself.

Because right now… Well, right now Lizzie realised, despite feeling like she was run over by a truck, as she had so eloquently put, she also realised she was fully charged with magic. Which was odd, considering she was a siphoner. And this magic, this magic was very familiar indeed. It was Hope's magic, the one she felt being sucked away after she had passed out. Turns out some of it had stayed behind, or maybe… No… was? Was Hope somehow inside Lizzie's head?

Freya saw multiple emotions flash across Lizzie's face, with increasingly alarming frequency, until finally settling on confusion bordering horror.

"I see you have come to the same conclusion that we have, or at least you're certainly partway there. You must feel Hope's magic coursing inside of you right now. I have come to the conclusion that it is the ambient magic left behind by the outburst that had knocked you out last week."

At Freya's last words, Lizzie felt a surge of panic strong enough to propel her upwards in bed into a sitting position. "A week? Oh my god, my dad…"

Before Lizzie could finish her thought, her eyes were drawn to the door on the opposite side of the room, which had just at that moment opened, to reveal her father, her twin halfway behind him.

The look on Alaric Saltzman's face was not one Lizzie had seen before. Not when she had trashed the library in one of her episodes, breaking hundreds of priceless artefacts and ancient texts, some of which could not be repaired by magic and were lost. Not even when she had been caught sneaking in drunk at 4am after a party at the old mill.

Alaric's expression was a mix of concern, relief and utter and unadulterated rage. Lizzie figured that after a week of worry, his anger had been festering on a back burner, and now that she was awake, she was going to be met with her father's wrath.

Lizzie's eyes flicked behind him, connecting with Josie's. She wasn't sure if she was hoping to find strength or support in her sister's gaze, but she definitively saw sympathy and relief. But a part of her was sure Josie would enjoy seeing their father finally give Lizzie a piece of his mind.

Lizzie sighed in resignation, turning her eyes away, "Dad, I can…"

"Save it Elizabeth. We are going to have a serious talk, young lady."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. If anyone has ideas on chapter titles please share, I am not too keen on this one, but feel like I need to have one.


	3. That's very Bond-villainesque of you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freya Mikaelson moonlights as a Bond-villain. Not really, but she does have a secret room behind a spinning bookcase that she takes Josie to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, this update is just as unexpected for me as it is for you and I also haven't properly re-read it, so sorry if it's meh.  
> I hope you enjoy this chapter and where it has taken me. None of this was where I planned it going, yet here we are.  
> I feel like I should also mention that I have absolutely not done any research on the coven, or on Freya. I have stopped watching TO roughly in season 2 and never finished TVD either so... inconsistencies and inaccuracies are bound to happen. If it really bothers someone a lot, lemme know nicely and I will maybe change it. Or claim creative liberties... probably that second one cuz I'm lazy

Josie hung back as Alaric entered the room Lizzie had been sleeping in for the past week. Knowing that Lizzie was finally awake and ok was enough for now. As much as Josie secretly, or not so secretly if the recognition on Lizzie's face was anything to go by, wanted to bear witness to her sister finally getting the telling to she deserved for putting all of them through this, Josie decided to give her twin and their dad some alone time.

Freya came to the same conclusion and left the room a few seconds after, looking Josie who was still stood uncertainly outside the bedroom door up and down. 

"Bambi, you and your dad have been here almost a week now, one would think you would start to feel more comfortable around us at some point."

"No, it's not that. I'm just worried about Lizzie. I felt what happened to her, all the way back home I felt it, and it scared me... And now… Now I feel magic, it's not hers, I know that we're both siphoners, and I don't… I don't understand." Josie sighed, avoiding Freya's inquisitive gaze. Josie was sure the older witch could see right through her, and she could tell that Josie wasn't just worried about Lizzie, she was scared and maybe a little bit jealous.

Yet Freya didn't look as if she was judging Josie. Instead, she looked as if she had finally connected the dots and was seeing a completed puzzle, one that Josie finally gave her the last missing piece to, without even realising it.  
"I think I have something to give you, Josette Saltzman," Freya turned around abruptly, motioning for Josie to follow her down the corridor.

Josie trailed after the older witch with only a hint of hesitation. The mention of her coven had been an uncomfortable reminder of what was hanging over their head, the Merge. Yet another reason why this whole situation with Lizzie weighed so heavily on Josie. Feeling her twin suddenly coursing with magic was like having a bucket of cold water upended on herself. 

Following Freya Mikaelson through her house, without an explanation was not something Josie would have entertained a mere week ago. But since she and her dad have rushed to New Orleans after Josie's twin connection had let her know that something was terribly wrong with Lizzie, the brunette had done many things she never imagined she would. Like having tea with Rebekah Mikaelson in the marble-topped kitchen of her mansion. Or pouring through ancient grimoires with Freya, looking for an explanation to Lizzie's sudden and prolonged blackout. Or, most strangely of all, having a heart to heart with the aunts of a friend no-one but Lizzie remembered. 

So really, in the grand scheme of things, following Freya Mikaelson without any kind of explanation was far from the strangest things Josie had done in the last couple of days. At this point, she might even say that she cautiously trusted the older witch. 

Josie quickly realised where they are headed, the library being the room she had spent the most time in while at the Mikaelson mansion. Yet once they reached the familiar space, Freya kept going, making her way to the far end of the room, a dark corner that Josie had previously paid no mind to.

With growing curiosity, Josie watched as the older witch reached for what seemed to be a random book, slightly off centre on the bottom shelf of the bookcase. Instead of taking it all the way off, however, Freya pulled it down and stepped back, as if waiting for something to happen. 

Josie startled as the whole bookcase groaned and, with a start, began to twist around an invisible axis, coming to rest with another jolt, perpendicular to the wall. Josie blinked her eyes at what she realised was an honest to god hidden room, with a turning bookcase for an entrance. 

Under different circumstances, and in different company, she might have even laughed out loud in incredulous delight as the utter cliché of the situation. A false bookcase with a hidden room in an ancient mansion inhabited by and even more ancient supernatural family. But as it stood, in the current situation, Josie decided to simply go along with it as if it was completely normal.

Freya eyed the younger witch out of the corner of her eye, sensing the incredulity and maybe even expecting a bit of mockery at the utter cliched ridiculousness of having a "secret lair". The blond witch shakes her head as if trying to rid herself from deja-vu. Freya could almost hear a fondly mocking voice of a girl like Josie, but not, asking her if she realises how Bond villain it is of her to have a secret office in the back of the library. But she can't grasp the memory that slips away before it even fully formed in her mind, because it never happened, and that girl never even existed.   
With a frustrated sigh at the almost memories that she kept having with increasing frequency, Freya stepped into the room where she kept all of her most dangerous books and artefacts. She did spare a thought for why she would even need to hide them in her own house in the first place but absentmindedly supposed a child might be a good reason. Freya wondered briefly if there was a specific incident that she couldn't remember anymore that had prompted her to hide away dangerous spells and relics, or if she had the forethought to childproof the house on her own.

Josie followed behind Freya, looking around the smaller room with intrigue. The brunette imagined there was a reason this room was hidden away behind a bookcase in the library. This made her a bit apprehensive about what Freya brought her there for.

Josie's eyes fell on a seemingly nondescript book sat on the table. Usually, she wouldn't spare it a second glance, but in a room full of ominous-looking ancient tomes and relics, a regular-looking book stood out. 

Maybe it was Josie's excellent intuition and deduction skills that made her notice the book before Freya even reached for it. Or perhaps it was the seal of the Gemini coven that did the trick. Who knows?

All that really matters is that Freya did end up reaching for the book, twisting it briefly in her hands, before turning around to face Josie.

"I have been wondering why I had gone looking for this book. I had crossed paths with the Gemini coven back when it was first being established and a few times in passing since then. I knew of its fate, and that only two twins had survived, but couldn't figure out why it mattered to me enough to do research on the coven's ritual for choosing their next leader." Freya smoothed her thumbs over the book cover and slowly lifted her eyes to look at Josie, who had gone bone-white when she realised what this was going to be about.

"After you mentioned feeling what Lizzie had gone through, and feeling her magic now, it had finally clicked. You and Lizzie are twins, the last witches remaining of the Gemini coven and on your twenty-second birthdays you will have to undergo the Merge." 

Josie's head was spinning. Of course, she had already known all that, albeit since a moment in time entirely too recent, so she was still trying to process it. In this past week, for the first time since she had found out, Josie had hardly spared the Merge a second thought. Ironic, considering everything Lizzie had been going through could have a direct impact on the outcome of the Merge. 

Truth be told, after Josie was sure that her twin was alive and well, and she had felt all that magic, her first, fleeting thought had been about the Merge. She had quickly pushed it away, but the guilt remained. Now, Freya Mikaelson was standing in front of her, holding a book with her Covent's seal on it, insinuating in no uncertain terms that this book might have the answer to their problem.

It was all a bit much.

Freya sensed the other girl's distress and motioned for her to sit on one of the chairs opposite the desk, settling into the other one herself. She placed the book on the table between them and looked at Josie with something resembling concern.

"I think Hope must have reached out to me to see if I knew anything about it. This book is all that I found before Hope disappeared, and I guess my motivation to research the Merge disappeared with her." Freya pushed the book along the table towards Josie, urging the younger girl to take it.

Josie reached for the book in a haze. Thoughts and feelings were swirling around in her head too quickly to comprehend. On the one hand, Josie had almost wanted to put the Merge off for as long as possible. At sixteen, her twenty-second birthday seemed too far away to worry about. On the other, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't let it go. No distraction she could think up during the day helped Josie keep the nightmares at bay during the night. In her dreams, Josie would switch between killing her sister and being killed by her. 

"I… don't know what to say right now… Thank you." Josie frowned. That somehow seemed insincere. Despite hating the reminder of what she spent her waking moments trying to forget, Josie really was grateful that Freya had gone through the trouble of researching this for someone she hadn't even met. "Really, thank you, Freya. I know I don't exactly sound thrilled…"

"It is ok, Josie. I know this is overwhelming, especially considering everything else going on, and the recent developments with your sister… I know a thing or two about ancient curses and complicated family dynamics." Freya smiled ruefully as if at an inside joke only she was privy to, "I can't and won't promise you that everything will work out in the end, but I can promise that I will try to help. Both you and your sister have clearly been very important to my niece, important enough to come to me for help with your problem. So after we get Hope back, I am sure she would want me to continue helping you and your family look for a solution to the Merge."

Freya reached out to Josie, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder, and squeezing gently as she got up off her chair and headed for the door.

"Now, Bambi. I think it's time we get back to your sister and father before one or both of them ends up dead, or worse something in my house gets damaged."

With that, the older witch walked out of her secret office, leaving Josie to scramble hurriedly behind her, scared she might get trapped in Freya Mikaelson's secret Bond-villain lair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Btw since no one is keen to offer chapter title suggestions, I have fully embraced the ridiculous ones I come up with. I am going for humour, even if it is only funny to me. Such is the burden of comedic genius.  
> As always, comments are very welcome and even heavily encouraged. I am literally only doing this for the validation of strangers online.


	4. Kind of like soulmates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alaric has a go at Lizzie. Or tries to. Freya explains what happened. Or tries to. And Josie helps Lizzie calm down... Or... well, you get it.

The heavy mahogany door slammed shut behind Freya with a sense of finality. Lizzie was left alone with her father, who seemed to be unsure of which one of his feelings to confront first. Alaric looked both relieved to see his daughter alive and furious at her having snuck away across state lines to visit the most infamous supernatural family in the Northern hemisphere, if not the whole world.

 

He decided to ignore the fact that Lizzie had been right about Hope, a Mikaelson child left in his care, and the fact that his disbelief is exactly what forced Lizzie to pursue such drastic action in the first place.

 

For now, Alaric Saltzman just wanted to indulge in his parental anger, which, coupled with a week full of sleepless nights, was truly a sight to behold.

 

He had been trying to reach Caroline for days, but has failed to do so. The girls’ mother has been searching for a way around the Merge all the way over in Europe for a few years now. A lot of the time her search left her in some unreachable magic-laden forest or other. Apparently, even though Europe was so much smaller than America, it more than made up for its size with the number and age of its magic communities.

 

Unable to bear the tension in the room any longer, Lizzie swung her legs off the bed, testing to see if she was able to stand up.

 

After the initial grogginess that was expected after a week-long sleep, Lizzie had begun feeling the magic still coursing through her, and felt surprisingly strong. However, before she could examine that feeling any further, she heard her father clear his throat. With a sinking feeling Lizzie lifted her eyes to his face, trying to look both apologetic but also maybe a little smug. Outright saying I told you so would not be wise right now, but maybe she could convey it with her eyes.

 

“Elizabeth, I don’t even know where to begin with you,” Alaric seethed. “What were you thinking? Leaving the school in the middle of the night? How did you even get to New Orleans?”

 

Lizzie was about to reply, when she realised that admitting to standing in the middle of the road to stop a car and then forcing an unsuspecting civilian to drive her across state lines would not work in her favour right now. Lizzie looked down, avoiding eye contact.

 

“You know what… I don’t even want to know,” her father started pacing around the room, his voice rising. “Worst of all, you made your sister lie for you! If it wasn’t for the twin connection, we might have never found out you were even in danger! Who knows what could have happened? Especially in this…” Alaric suddenly cut himself off.

 

Looking around, as if expecting a Mikaelson sibling to suddenly appear out of thin air. In a much quieter tone he finished, “Especially in this house.”

 

Lizzie looked up from the floor, indignant. Even though she herself had understood the danger of coming here, Rebekah and Freya have been nothing but welcoming and had obviously taken care of her after she passed out and let her father and sister in. She was about to object, when Alaric cut her off.

 

“You’re a smart girl Lizzie. Usually. But this. God this is the stupidest thing I have ever seen anyone do, and I knew Damon Salvatore personally.” He was starting to get worked up again. But before he could continue, Lizzie decided to finally interject.

 

“I know you think this was stupid and reckless. And maybe it was. But it was also necessary! You wouldn’t listen to me, no one would. What was I supposed to do?” Now it was Lizzie’s turn to get angry. Between waking up in the Mikaelson house, suddenly having her own powers and her father’s somewhat understandable anger, Lizzie had forgotten her own anger and frustration. The whole reason she decided to come here in the first place was her father’s lack of trust in her.

 

“Now you see that I hadn’t been going crazy. Hope is real, and she was a student at your school. Basically, the whole reason for its existence even. And you refused to try and find her. To believe me that there was anyone to be found in the first place. If I were you, father, I wouldn’t worry so much about what the Mikaelsons could have done to me, and start worrying about what they will do to you.” Lizzie raised her eyebrow sassily, daring her father to argue with that.

 

Before Lizzie could continue with her tirade, or before Alaric could try and defend himself (how did he suddenly become the one on the receiving end of a talking to?), Freya opened the door into the room. Josie was stood out in the corridor, looking awkwardly from her father to her sister. Lizzie hadn’t realised how loud her voice had got towards the end, and was now worried that Freya had heard what she had shouted at her father. She didn’t even want to think that Rebekah would have definitely heard her, wherever she was in the house.

 

Freya walked into the room, taking in the slightly terrified look on Alaric Saltzman’s face. She would never grow tired of mortal men being terrified of her. She had to give it to the infamous vampire hunter, his poker face was much better than most. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Dr Saltzman,” Freya put a special kind of mocking emphasis on the title. Truth be told, she found humans’ obsession with titles and status a little infantile at times, “Right now we are all focussed on getting Hope back. And as some of the biggest donors to your school, which makes a lot more sense now, I am well aware of what you do for those kids, and of what you must have done for my niece as well. I guess we are going to have to forgive a certain,” Freya hesitated for a moment, as if trying to find the right word, “human hesitance to believe in the more outlandish supernatural happenings.”

 

Alaric grit his teeth for a second at Freya’s dismissive tone. No matter how much time he has spent around supernatural teenagers, that looked years younger than him, but ended up being centuries older, he still found it hard to remember that, when they were talking down to him like a child.

 

“I appreciate your… generosity in sparing my life,” Alaric couldn’t keep a little bit of sarcasm from slipping through, despite his best efforts, “but would you mind telling me what the next step is, now that Elizabeth is awake? I am actually still not sure what even happened to her in the first place.”

 

Freya tilted her head, regarding the bearded man in front of her. He was either incredibly brave, or incredibly stupid. Probably a bit of both. She actually kind of liked him. Alaric Saltzman seemed like a good father, and a decent teacher, despite being a human. She had a feeling her niece would have been fond of him.

 

“Well, Dr Saltzman, I have been doing a lot of research the last week, since Lizzie’s collapse, and I have come to the conclusion that she must be acting as a sort of… anchor for Hope. I believe that my niece had reached out to Lizzie with her magic, in an attempt to communicate, unfortunately she must have misjudged the amount of magic that she shared with Lizzie in the process, which had cause her to collapse. It is actually not an uncommon occurrence among siphoners, from what I have gathered. It seems that their capacity to receive magic grows with time and practice, and if they try to take more than what they are prepared for, it overcharges their system. In order to protect their magical core, their systems shut down and they go into a sort of hibernation. While asleep, they can digest,” at this, Freya threw up quotation marks, unable to find a better word, “the new magic much more slowly and safely.”

 

Alaric rubbed his hands over his face, trying to wrap his hands around all of this. Not for the first time, he realised how woefully unprepared and uninformed he truly was about his daughters’ magic.

 

Lizzie looked over at her dad, then her sister, trying to gauge their reactions. If she was being honest, this wasn’t such an outlandish explanation to her. It actually even made sense. Of course, she had no clue how she had become Hope’s anchor, but it would explain why she was the only one to have any memory of Hope, however distorted.

 

“So… What now? How do we, like get Hope back? Or restore everyone’s memory of her?” Lizzie looked to Freya, hoping for an easy answer. The blonde was slightly apprehensive about what that might involve. She remembered the splitting headache just before she passed out, and a part of her was worried that actually bringing the girl back would hurt a lot more.

 

Josie walked over to her sister, grabbing her hand as a show of support. She could see the apprehension in Lizzie’s eyes, and could almost tell exactly what her twin was thinking. Despite currently being on the outs, Josie knew they would always have each other’s backs when it mattered the most. Lizzie threw Josie a grateful smile, and the brunette squeezed her hand in reassurance, before turning to Freya inquisitively.

 

“Well, there are a couple spells and rituals that I have come across in my research. I think out best bet would be activating that anchor bond, and casting a soul mending spell,” at the confused look on everyone’s face, Freya continued, “From what I understand, becoming an anchor involves giving a part of your soul to the other person. A soul mending spell is supposed to bring that fragment back, and in theory should also bring Hope back, since it is within her.”

 

A tense silence descended over the room. It was a lot to take in. Soul magic was even rarer and more dangerous than blood magic, and if gone wrong, could lead to a much worse outcome than just death. It was considered to be the most ancient and unpredictable magic.

 

Lizzie took a seat on the bed, as her knees suddenly gave out from the new information.  A lot of thoughts were swirling around in her head, but she couldn’t seem to hold on to any one of them for longer than a few seconds, to make sense of any of this.

 

Freya looked on at the younger witch with sympathy, fully aware of how scared she must feel, now knowing the full extent of her predicament. She met Alaric’s eyes from across the room, and motioned for him to follow her outside.

 

“Why don’t we give you girls a moment to wrap your head around this. I would just like to talk to your father outside. We will meet your downstairs in the kitchen in a little while. Josie knows the way,” with that, Freya smiled kindly down at Josie, and led the way out of the room.

 

After the door shut behind Alaric, the twins were left in uncomfortable silence. Lizzie had buried her face in her hands, trying desperately to keep herself from spiralling out of control. With all of this magic currently coursing through her veins, one of her episodes would probably rival the destruction of an hurricane.

 

Josie, was all too aware of the emotional precipice her sister was teetering on. Aside from their twin bond, she also had years of experience and was able to predict Lizzie’s episodes with frightening accuracy. She quickly set the book Freya had given her down on the bed, that was a conversation for another time, and sat down next to her sister, throwing a hand around her shoulders, and holding on tightly.

 

The first step to preventing Lizzie’s panic attack was always physical contact. Squeezing Lizzie tightly always grounded her, and lowered her heartrate. The second step, was distraction. Usually Josie would memorise fun facts, or stupid puns to get Lizzie’s mind off of whatever she was freaking out about, but right now, she couldn’t think of a single thing. For some reason, Josie couldn’t remember the last time she had memorised any puns for Lizzie’s sake. Thinking back on it now, she couldn’t remember when and why exactly she stopped being the one to calm Lizzie down. In fact, she hadn’t done it in a couple of months at least.

 

Before things could get out of control, Josie just said the first thing that popped in to her mind, “You know, I’m not an expert on soul magic or anything, but does this whole anchor business kind of make you and that Hope girl soulmates?”

 

* * *

 

It has been a week since Lizzie woke up from her magically induced coma, and Lizzie and Josie had been staying at the Mikaelson mansion since then. Alaric has had to go back to school but since Lizzie was needed here in order to prepare for the soul mending spell, on order to get Hope out of Malivore, he decided to let Josie stay with her twin for moral support.

 

The two sisters have made an unspoken agreement to put the new found tension in their relationship on a back burner for the time being. Even though they had both been kind of apprehensive about living with the Mikaelsons, they soon found out that behind closed doors they were actually almost like a normal family. Sure, some of their jokes were completely incomprehensible, or sometimes, Freya and Rebekah would slip into whatever ancient language they spoke in their youth, but beyond that, they kind of behaved like typical siblings did.

 

Josie and Lizzie settled into the Mikaelson household with surprising, and slightly unnerving ease. Freya and Keelin treated them like adults, never mincing their words or leaving anything out when explaining what needed to be done for the spell.

 

They were pretty much free to come and go as they pleased. Lizzie had a sneaking suspicion Freya put out a call that no one in New Orleans was to touch the siphoner twins. While Josie spent most of her time in the massive library, helping Freya with research on the spell, and working her way through the book Freya gave her earlier, Lizzie often escaped into the city.

 

Something about New Orleans was calling Lizzie. She made her way around the French Quarter with practice ease. The hustle and bustle of the supernatural safe haven worked wonders on keeping Lizzie’s mind off of the impending soul mending ritual. The blonde felt like she was constantly on edge, walking a thin line with sheer drops on either side of her. Being able to escape for a few hours every day made all the difference.

 

On day ten, Josie called when Lizzie was once again out in New Orleans.

 

It was time.

 

Back at the mansion, Freya and Josie had set everything up for the spell. Rebekah and Keelin stood off to the side, having done their fair share of research. Rebekah had used all of her connections to find the rarest of ingredients for the spell, Keelin had researched the science behind the way siphoners interacted with magic, and how that would impact the soul mending ritual.

 

She had tried to explain it all to Lizzie when she was running her tests, but the Lizzie had bowed out of all the preparations. It was kind of overwhelming to think about all of that, and she felt that if she got bogged down in the details, she would just be more terrified. Instead she chose to put her trust in Josie and the Mikaelsons to get her through this in one piece.

 

When Lizzie finally made her way back to the mansion, the twilight hours were just settling over New Orleans. A shush had fallen over the French Quarter. After weeks of preparation, there wasn’t a supernatural in town that wasn’t aware, at least on some level that something was about to go down at the Mikaelson residence. Considering their track record, most chose to keep their distance.

 

At the house, magic was thrumming all around. Freya had enlisted the help of a whole coven of witches to perform the ritual. Since Hope was a tribrid, the magical essence of all three of the facets of her being were required for the ritual. Rebekah had volunteered, as a blood relative, and so had Freya, to use their blood for the ritual. Keelin had found a werewolf from Hayley’s tribe to complete the trifecta.

 

Lizzie cast a glance around the atrium. The blonde noted the tense atmosphere and was immediately put on edge. Even without getting involved in the preparations, she was more than aware of the dangers of the ritual.

 

Freya made her way towards the younger witch, stood hesitantly by the entrance. The poor girl looked like she was about to bolt. Over the few weeks that Lizzie had stayed at the manor, Freya had become rather fond of her, seeing a bit of herself in the younger girl. She took Lizzie’s hand, giving her a reassuring squeeze, “Don’t worry, Elizabeth, we have done our research and we have a lot of back up. This will be over before you know it.” She whispered

 

Lizzie tried to smile confidently at Freya, feeling like she fell woefully short of that. Going for a nod instead, Lizzie steeled her nerves and followed the other witch into the library, where a space had been cleared out in the middle. A circle was drawn in the middle, right under the massive skylight. It was already filled halfway with the light of the moon, like a reflection in a pond. A triangle encompassed the circle, with hieroglyphs and candles twisting outwards from the centre of the room, in intertwining patters. Lizzie figure that from up high, it would make some kind of cohesive picture, but from down on the ground it seemed almost random.

 

While Lizzie stood by the doors, looking over the set up for what could very well end up being a fatal spell, everyone else trickled into the library past her, taking their predesigned places. Rebekah and Keelin both squeezed Lizzie’s shoulder on their way in, as a sign of support. Josie paused by her sister, grabbing her hand. The brunette could feel how anxious and scared her twin was and tried her best to channel a calming energy through their bond.

 

Lizzie looked up with a grateful, but weak smile. The moonlight had moved closer, and was now filling three quarters of the circle. It was almost time. Josie pulled Lizzie along, further into the room, before depositing her by the top of the triangle, near Freya, letting the older witch take it from there.

 

As the witches who had taken their place around the room started to chant, connecting their hands in a spirals, winding out from each corner of the triangle, all of the candles in the room suddenly lit up, giant bursts of fire shooting up almost a metre high, before settling down to a warm, flickering glow.

 

Freya motioned for Lizzie to make her way into the centre of the circle, while Rebekah and a young werewolf girl, who Lizzie assumed was from Hope’s mother's pack, completed the triangle at the two remaining corners.

 

Just as Lizzie was about to ask what she should be doing, and starting to really regret being so uninvolved with the preparation that she was completely lost, the moonlight had moved the final few inches, completing the circle.

 

All at once, the three women that made up the triangle around Lizzie, took out ceremonial daggers and sliced their palms in perfect unison, extending their palms and letting the blood drip down onto the circle that surrounded Lizzie.

 

The chant of the witches around the room seemed to swell, reaching an almost deafening roar. The three most central witches, from whom the spirals extended outwards, all reached out their hands to Freya, Rebekah and the werewolf, letting their combined magical energies flow through the spirals and into the supernatural trifecta.

 

Lizzie could suddenly feel all of the magic in the room, being concentrated around her. The witch, vampire and werewolf surrounding her joined their hands and began speaking in unison, drowning out all of the witches. Lizzie felt like the eye of the storm. The circle in which she stood felt completely devoid of any magical energy, while all around her so much magic was boing concentrated for the spell that the flames of the candles started rising higher and higher. The windows were shaking, as if a strong wind was trying to blow them right out of the window sills, and books were flying off the shelves.

 

Suddenly, the witches all went quiet, and only the three women surrounding Lizzie were still chanting, going faster and faster, as they tried to harness every last drop of magic in the room, into the big finale.

 

Suddenly Lizzie felt all the air being sucked out of her lungs, and saw a blinding light erupt from where Freya’s hands joined with two others. Just as Lizzie was falling down, she saw Freya bellow out the final words of the incantation, while blood poured out from her nose, eyes and ears. Lizzie’s final thought was that if she survived, she really hoped that Freya did too, because otherwise she was pretty certain Keelin would kill her.  

 

And then everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update? Only took me like, three months.  
> If I'm honest, I kind of forgot most of what I wrote in the other chapters, so if something is suddenly super inconsistent, I'm sorry.  
> Also, I still have no clue where this is going, beyond a very general idea of a Hizzie endgame.  
> Also, the plan is to finish this fic before new years, which means that in theory I will be updating much more frequently. I am however, not making any kind of promises.  
> As always, please comment and let me know what you think.
> 
> P.S. for anyone asking, Kol and Davina are unlikely to make an appearance since I kind of stopped watching TVD and TO before I really got to know them, so I wouldn't really know how to include them in this. It is also not completely impossible, since I might just get a bout of inspiration and do some actual research.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls wake up, and worry about each other. There might be some crying over a glass of water. Idk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope's finally back. Nothing really happens in this chapter, because, well, I'm not the best writer, so, you know, take from that what you will.  
> Also, what is accurate characterisation? I don't know her.  
> Please leave a comment though and tell me what you think. Unless you didn't like it, then like, keep it to yourself cuz Im fragile and I kid you not a single bad comment would probably make me give up on this story all together. Or it might motivate me even more. There is no telling, really, where that will go, just like there is no telling where this story will go.

Hope had realised rather quickly that she might have gotten a little overdramatic. The black nothingness and isolation of Malivore was very conductive to a negative and self-pitying outlook. After… an indeterminate amount of time, since it was difficult to judge those sorts of things when there was nothing to measure time against, Hope had felt Lizzie again. But this time their connection was much stronger.

 

Hope couldn’t exactly read Lizzie’s thoughts, or even communicate with the blonde girl, but she could certainly tell what Lizzie was feeling. And Lizzie had… a lot of feelings. For the first time ever, Hope got an inside look at what really went on behind Lizzie Saltzman’s carefully crafted mask of witty one liners and snide remarks. And it was, a little overwhelming.

 

There was guilt, and anxiousness, and the more time passed, the worse it got. Hope tried to channel some calm feelings towards Lizzie, but it was kind of hard to do, given that she didn’t exactly feel too calm herself. Her only connection to the outside world were Lizzie’s feelings, so after a while it was hard to distinguish where her own feelings ended and Lizzie’s began.

 

Sometimes, Hope would end up thinking about New Orleans, and the places she likes to wander, and a rare sense of calm would wash over her. She really did love the city, its smells and sounds and people. It was in the middle of the French Quarter, lost in the crowd of tourists and locals, where Hope would feel most at peace. Walking around the city would remind her of her dad, like only painting ever did. Klaus used to take her around all of his favourite places, telling stories that were definitely inappropriate for a small child, about how he took over some bar or another, but he would always make Hope giggle with his dramatic recounting of battles fought and won. Those were some of her fondest childhood memories, and they were inextricably tied to her home town.

 

Now, stuck in the emptiness of Malivore, Hope earned more than ever for the busy streets. Only now could she really appreciate how much she missed it. Sometimes, she could swear that Lizzie was walking around her favourite streets, and it was like Hope could almost catch a whiff of a familiar smell, or hear the distant murmur of a crowd and street music. Hope was almost certain that this meant she was finally going crazy, but just couldn’t find it in herself to care. She had come to really appreciate the power of hallucinations since being in Malivore.

 

In the middle of one of those rare peaceful moments, Lizzie’s anxiety suddenly spiked, almost stealing Hope’s breath away. Without any other sensations to focus on Hope experienced every feeling more intensely. It was an odd sensation, experiencing a feeling without any of the context for where it comes from. It was very disconcerting, especially when instead of relaxing eventually, like she normally did, Lizzie’s anxiousness just seemed to climb steadily, until it turned into full blown fear.

 

With a final pang of absolute terror, Lizzie’s feelings cut off altogether, and after a few seconds of emptiness, Hope was once again certain that the panic she was feeling was all her own.

 

She didn’t have a lot of time to dwell on it though, because in a few more moments there was a blinding flash of light, followed by a roar of air rushing past her. After being suspended in a place with no external stimuli of any kind for so long, every one of Hope’s senses were on fire. Her eardrums felt like they were about to burst, her eyes, even tightly shut were burning as if she was staring directly into the sun, and her skin was so sensitive, that the air rushing past felt like coarse sandpaper grating against skin.

 

All of a sudden, Hope could feel herself lying on solid ground. The feeling was bizarre, and quite unsettling. There had been no gravity in Malivore, and now Hope felt like she was being pushed into the floor by some invisible force. It was hard to breathe, and moving wasn’t even an option.

 

Once Hope’s senses began to slowly acclimatise, she could distinguish a little more between the different sounds and sensations. They began to separate from a general cacophony into distinct sources of information about her surroundings. First, Hope became aware of several voices, then she could smell smoke and the metallic tang of fresh blood. She felt the cold hardwood of the floor pressing against her cheek, sticky with blood and melted wax.

 

Hope tried to pry her eyes open. Everything was blurry and unfocused, and she realised with a start that it was because she was crying. The shock of being ripped out of Malivore was both painful physically as well as emotionally overwhelming. But anything was better than nothing, and feeling pain only meant that she was alive, and in the real world again.

 

Once Hope managed to blink some of her tears away and her vision cleared, she saw a face in front of her. Once she was able to focus Hope realised that it was the unconscious face of Lizzie, lying opposite her on the floor. Hope tried to reach a hand out to touch the other girl. Suddenly, terror so profound gripped her that she was struggling to breathe all over again. Lizzie wasn’t moving. Was she breathing? Hope had to get to her.

 

She felt a hand tentatively settle on her shoulder, squeezing it. Next thing she knows, she was being gently pushed onto her back, coming face to face with her aunt Freya. Slightly behind her, Hope saw Rebekah, peering down at her with the same intense concern that Freya did. For a second, Hope forgot that her aunts probably don’t remember her, and her face crumpled as a fresh wave of tears hit her. A sob squeezed her throat in a choke hold, and the young tribrid struggled to take a breath. Everything hurt and she couldn’t seem to remember how to breathe.

 

The edges of Hope vision started going blurry, and just before she lost consciousness, she tried to form Lizzie’s name. She had to make sure the other girl was alive. She had to…do…

 

* * *

 

Lizzie woke up with a jolt. The last thing she remembered is the splitting headache, and the fleeting thought about how dying in an attempt to save someone else was kind of something she had already resigned herself to.

 

But… Lizzie wasn’t dead. She was pretty sure her head was not meant to hurt that much in the after-life. Unless she was in hell, in which case it was entirely possible she was being punished for being such a pain in everyone’s ass.

 

The next thing Lizzie realises is how dry her throat is. Her lips feel like they’ve fused together. She rolled her head to the side, slowly squinting her eyes open. A part of the nightstand and a closed curtain slowly came into focus. Blinking slowly, as in in slow motion Lizzie scanned the room, realising that she was in a very familiar position, waking up in the same room she had woken up from her magic coma from about a week ago. Or, well, it might have been longer than a week, now that she thinks about it. Slowly, the memory of the soul mending ritual filtered in.

 

Lizzie sat up abruptly, groaning as the movement sent a fresh wave of pain right through her whole body, until it all seemingly accumulated in the back of her head. She hung her head, screwing her eyes shut, trying to stave off the bout of nausea that hit her. Reaching blindly for the glass of water that she had noticed earlier on the nightstand, Lizzie spilled about half of it on the way to her mouth, but couldn’t really bring herself to care right now. She swallowed the remaining liquid in one big gulp, leaving a fair amount to run down her chin. Nothing had ever been so satisfying in her life. Briefly, Lizzie wondered how long she’s been out of it, because it felt like she hadn’t had a drink of water in months.

 

Feeling just slightly more like herself, Lizzie lifted the blanket off her legs, carefully hanging them over the side of the bed. A pause. A couple of heavy breaths. This was going to be much harder than she thought.

 

After about 10 minutes, Lizzie managed to get to the door, supporting herself along the wall on her way there. She had to make frequent stops to catch her breath. Every step felt like running an hundred metre sprint. But one thing kept her going. Lizzie had to know if the spell worked. If it hadn’t all been for nothing. She had to know if they managed to get Hope back.

 

By the time she reached the door, there was a sheen of sweat covering her forehead, the little hairs sticking there. Her heart was beating uncomfortably hard, each thump reverberating in the back of her head, like an echo travelling through her whole body, to finally reach the cavity of her skull, and hit it with a sound wave, over and over and over again.

Lizzie leaned her head against the door. The wood was cool and seemed to ease her headache somewhat while she caught her breath. After a few minutes, she was just about ready to open the door and make her way to… well, she hadn’t really thought that far ahead yet. As Lizzie settle her hand on the brass handle, she heard steps coming down the corridor. Instead of stopping at her door, they carried on further down. She heard the door to what must have been the room next to hers open and voices that she recognised to be Rebekah and Freya’s.

 

“How is she? Awake yet?” Lizzie heard Freya ask through the door.

 

“She came to a little while ago for a few minutes. Frantic. Asking for Lizzie, actually. I think she was worried she had killed the little witch somehow. I had to reassure her that blondie was much too stubborn and resilient to die from some spell.” came Rebekah’s amused drawl.

 

Lizzie smiled to herself tiredly. After her time with the Mikaelsons she had come to really look up to them, and Rebekah’s confidence in her was flattering to say the least.

 

“Some spell is putting it very mildly, don’t you think?” Lizzie realised suddenly how tired Freya sounded. “How is the little Saltzman doing, by the way? Have you checked on her yet?”

 

From down the hall, Lizzie heard a soft click of the door closing, and the two sets of steps came towards her door. Before they could open it and catch Lizzie seemingly eavesdropping, she finally opened the door herself, and came face to face with Freya and Rebekah. The two Mikaelsons looked over at Lizzie in thinly veiled surprise. She must have looked as bad as she felt, because that surprised soon turned to concern.

 

“What are you doing up?” Freya said, as she reached a hand out to steady Lizzie, who swayed dangerously on her feet.

 

“I’ve got to say, blondie, I knew you were tougher than you looked, but this is actually impressive.” Rebekah winked at Lizzie, then rolled her eyes at Freya’s admonishing side-eye.

 

“Get back into bed, Lizzie. It’s barely been a few hours since we performed the spell, and the amount of stress your body endured was astronomical. We basically channelled all of that magic through you, and then forced a part of your soul to come back from an alternate reality, with a whole other human attached to it.” Freya gently ushered Lizzie back towards the bed.

 

Lizzie sunk into the side of the bed gratefully. She hadn’t realised how shaky her legs had gotten from standing up for so long. “Well, when you put it like that…” Lizzie said with a smile, trying to blow an errant lock of hair that stuck to her forehead and was getting into her eyes.

 

Freya’s eyes softened, and she carefully pushed the lock of hair out of Lizzie’s face and behind her ear. The witch could admit she had grown quite fond of the girl, and could imagine one day having a daughter of her own like Lizzie. Stubborn, and resilient and so brave.

 

Rebekah noticed the tender moment, but chose to keep her teasing comment to herself for now. After all, she couldn’t deny her own fondness for the siphoner witch. She suspected that the girl currently sleeping in the room next door had no small part to play in mellowing both her and her sister out somewhat.

 

“So… It was successful then. The spell?” Lizzie asked what had been on her mind since the moment she woke up. The conversation she overheard from the hallway, and Freya’s comments from just now had already pretty much confirmed it anyway, but Lizzie craved that extra little bit of reassurance. Ever since she had woken up, the blonde had felt more unsure than she did in the last couple of weeks. She wondered briefly is the part of her that had anchored Hope in Malivore was the insecure scared little girl part.

 

“Yes honey, it worked. We got Hope back, thanks to you, and we will never forget what you have done for our family,” Freya stroked her hand over Lizzie’s hair, putting her mind at ease, “You should rest now, I’ll send Josie to come check on you in a little while, ok?”

 

Lizzie nodded gratefully, slowly easing back onto the bed. She was out before her head even hit the pillow.

 

* * *

 

In the next room, Hope came to much slower. She had been jerking in and out of sleep for the last couple of hours. She would dream about being in Malivore, then being ripped out of Malivore, then Lizzie’s pale face opposite hers on the floor. Unmoving. She’d wake up with a gasp, frantically searching for the other girl, until Rebekah would put her hand on her shoulder, calming her down. Rebekah told her patiently, again and again, that Lizzie was all right, sleeping it off in the other room. Hope would calm down, fall back into another restless sleep, only to repeat the whole cycle again.

 

It was slowly starting to sink in though. She was back. There was a pillow under her head, and a weighted blanket pressing down on her. Absently, she wondered which one of her aunts had a weighted blanket on hand. It was probably Keelin actually, hard to imagine either Freya or Rebekah being so… human. A breeze ruffled the curtains over the open window by the bed, and Hope heard the familiar sounds of her city waking up down below. It was so painfully familiar and calming, lulling her back into a much deeper sleep.

 

Hope finally fully woke up when the sun entered the room at such an angle as to land squarely on her face. She couldn’t even bring herself to be annoyed, because up until not so long ago she had been sure she would never see the sun again or feel it on her skin. As melodramatic as that sounded. A little bit of melodrama was kind of warranted in this situation, Hope thought.

 

She lifted herself up on her elbows slowly, scanning the room for her aunt. Rebekah was no longer by her bedside, but the evidence of her nightly vigil was still there. A half-finished cup of tea and an open book were lying on the table at the other side of the room. Hope glanced at to her side, and noticed a cup of water on the bedside table. It was as if the sight of water prompted her to realise how thirsty she was. She lifted the glass delicately, careful not to spill a single drop, and took a long, deliberate sip.

 

God, she had forgotten what water tasted like. What anything tasted like. What it felt like to be thirsty, hungry, tired. Physical sensations of any kind weren’t present in the void of Malivore, which left entirely too much time for emotional ones. Hope’s favourite distraction of physical exertion wasn’t an option, and sometimes she thought that was the hardest part of being trapped in an endless nothingness. By the time she finished the glass, she realised she was crying. The tribrid laughed at her-self, wiping, somewhat self-consciously, at her eyes, even though no one was there to see her. It was unlikely that anyone had ever gotten that emotional over a glass of water before, Hope chuckled to herself. Lizzie would give her so much shit if she ever saw her weeping over a glass of water like an idiot.

 

At the thought of the blonde, Hope feels a rush of emotions she can’t quite decipher from one another. What she can separate, above all others is the dread. She knows logically that Lizzie is ok. Alive and well. Sleeping it off in the other room. But she also just can’t stop picturing Lizzie’s face, so pale and lifeless, lying opposite Hope on the floor in some sick imitation of a superman kiss.

 

God, she should really not have let MG coerce her into watching all those superhero movies after they had saved Josie, together with Penelope. Hope had called them her avengers squad, and MG insisted on watching all the movies with her, for “research”. The older Spiderman movies weren’t even in the same universe as the Avengers, whatever that means, but MG said they were a classic.

 

Thinking about MG and his superhero obsession, brings a smile to Hope’s face, making her forget about Lizzie’s lifeless face for a second. It doesn’t last long though. Thinking about MG, and Penelope, and Josie even, just reminds her that they don’t remember her now. Almost as an afterthought Hope thinks about Landon. Does it mean something that her boyfriend is the last person she thinks about after she wakes up? Hope pushed the thought away to unpack at a later date. Or never. Never is also good.


	6. Hope! Andrea! Mikaelson!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Jake Peralta and Doug Judy singing* "Reunited and it feels so good!"

The next time Lizzie woke up, she felt much better rested. She opened her eyes slowly, and noted the darkness that now surrounded her. The hustle and bustle of night time New Orleans reached her from outside the still open window. A light from the streetlamp filtered in through the curtains, casting shadows across the room. As Lizzie tried to sit up, she realised just how sore she was. She felt pain in muscles that she didn’t even know existed. It made her wince in discomfort, which caused someone to shift beside her on the bed. Lizzie’s heart jumped in her chest from the unexpected movement, until she rolled her head to the side, and spotted her sister snuggled up beside her.

 

Lizzie smiled softly at how peaceful Josie looked. For the first time in a long while her twin was relaxed in her presence. It has been a while since they have shared a bed so comfortably, since Lizzie had been sleeping in Hope’s old room after their disagreement. Even though they had mutually decided to become less co-dependent, it was still reassuring to wake up next to Josie. Her presence had always had a calming effect on Lizzie.

 

The blonde decided to let her sister sleep, after she noticed just how exhausted Josie looked. She slid slowly from under the blanket, and got out of bed. Every movement burned Lizzie’s sore muscles and she had to bite her lip to keep herself from swearing, careful not to disturb Josie. Lizzie held her breath, and took careful steps towards the door, trying to avoid the squeaky floorboards. She cringed with practically every step, as she really didn’t know the layout of this room well enough yet to know where to step in order to keep quiet. Luckily, Josie must have been really exhausted because she hardly stirred at the noise.

 

Finally making it to the door, Lizzie opened it slowly and snuck out into the corridor, closing the door with a soft click. Taking a deep breath, Lizzie let her shoulders relax somewhat. She paused, realising that she didn’t exactly have a destination in mind. As if on cue, her stomach grumbled loudly, deciding for her, and Lizzie started to make her way towards the kitchen.

 

The Mikaelson mansion was a bit of a maze, and unsurprisingly more intimidating at night, but at this point Lizzie was used to it. During the week that she had been staying with the Mikaelsons, while Freya worked on the spell, Lizzie had snuck into the kitchen almost every night, often woken from sleep by an intense craving for hot chocolate. It was kind of strange actually, considering Lizzie had never been a big fan of hot chocolate. She was much more of a tea kind of girl, and had always found hot chocolate to be too sweet. Now that she thought about it, she had been having a lot of strange cravings lately, and all of a sudden, she wondered if it her connection to Hope might have been the reason for them.

 

As Lizzie rounded the corner towards the kitchen, she saw a streak of light extending from under the door into the corridor. She paused, listening to the sounds of someone moving around inside, and considered whether she wanted that hot chocolate enough to brave a social interaction.

 

A sudden noise from the other side of the door followed by a sling of very colourful curse words, made her jump. Before she knew what she was doing Lizzie rushed into the kitchen and saw a girl kneeling down by the sink to pick up the pieces of a broken teacup. With her back to Lizzie, all that was visible of the other girl was her long red hair, and the slope of her hunched shoulders as she gathered broken china.

 

The girl froze, as she felt Lizzie’s presence behind her. Her shoulders tensed and before Lizzie could so much as blink she was being pushed back into the wall. Her sore muscles protested at the sudden movement, and she grabbed on to the shorter girl’s elbow, to steady herself, out of instinct. A beat passed in silence between the girls, until, just as suddenly as she rushed Lizzie, the other girl let her go and took a step back her eyes going wide and muttering apologies.

 

Lizzie kept hold of the girl’s elbow as she retreated, not letting her move too far away. Time seemed to stand still as they looked at each other in the silence of the empty kitchen, recognition and caution churning between them.

 

“Hope…?”-Lizzie whispered, tightening her hold on the shorter girl’s arm, as if afraid that she would disappear.

 

\--------------------------------------------------

 

Hope’s eyes widened as she heard Lizzie say her name with such familiarity. There was something else in her voice, something that Hope was not prepared to even begin to figure out right now. She searched Lizzie’s face, saw how hopeful and open it was. Lizzie seemed relieved to see her, as if she knew exactly who Hope was. But that couldn’t be right, because no one really remembered her. When she came to after being pulled out of Malivore, she saw her aunts, relief all over their faces. They explained what had happened to Hope, that she was home, she was safe. And for a split second she forgot that they didn’t actually remember her. That had made it all the more painful when reality hit her like a speeding train.

 

It made sense that they knew in theory who Hope was. Evidence of her existence was all over the Mikaelson manner, something Hope had forgotten to take into account when she jumped into Malivore. If she were to be completely honest with herself, for once in her life, she would admit that getting Alaric to burn all evidence of her was kind of a foolish move, one couldn’t believe he went along with. There was no way he would be able to gather all evidence of her existence so quickly anyway, so why make finding her so much more complicated?

 

She had thought a lot about that when she was stuck in Malivore. Damned her self-sacrificing tendencies, and imagined most vividly how mad Lizzie would be. Good thing Lizzie wouldn’t remember her, right?

 

\------------------------------------------------------------

 

“Hope Andrea Mikaelson!”- Lizzie exclaimed, excitement and a touch of exasperated fondness colouring her voice. She grabbed onto Hope with her other hand, feeling compelled to increase their physical contact. As soon as she had touched Hope, Lizzie felt flashes of memories about the other girl return. It was the oddest feeling, like suddenly remembering a glimpse of a dream she’d forgotten and then seeing or hearing something that jogged her memory the next day. Or like piecing together memories after a drunken night after drinking too much. Satisfying and frustrating at the same time, because the little glimpses are never enough, and she needed more, more, more, but it kept slipping away, staying just out of reach, taunting her.

 

Touching Hope felt exactly like that, like ghosts of memories, feelings that were fleeting and unsatisfying, just at the edge of her consciousness, slipping away as soon as she reached for them.

 

Lizzie remembered seeing Hope as a little girl, just like in all those photos at the Manor, looking scared and sad. Her dad introducing her to the twins. Lizzie remembered wanting to protect her, grabbing her hand to show her around the school, only for Hope to take her hand back and walk away from Lizzie. She remembered feeling hurt and rejected, but determined to make a friend out of Hope.

 

Hope staggered back at Lizzie’s exclamation, her mind reeling. “You… you remember me?”

 

Lizzie’s heart clenched at the reluctant hope in the shorter girl’s voice. “It’s, a little more complicated than that,” she looked off to the side, trying to come up with an explanation that would make sense and wouldn’t seem too creepy to the other girl.

 

Hope kept looking at Lizzie with barely concealed hope and burning curiosity. She raised one of her eyebrows as Lizzie made eye contact with her again, in a move so eerily reminiscent of her own signature eyebrow quirk that Lizzie had to do a double take. Shaking her head to clear it, Lizzie reached over for one of the stools around the kitchen island, and sunk into it heavily, only now realising how tired and sore she still was.

 

Hope followed the movement with her eyes and then sat down opposite Lizzie, deciding to give the other girl some time to collect her thoughts. It seemed like she really needed it.

 

Lizzie took a deep breath, her eyes wandering around the room in thought, until they finally settled on Hope again. “Ok, so… I do and I don’t really remember you,” Hope scrunched her face up in confusion, about to interfere. Lizzie kept speaking before she could, “it’s just that… nothing made sense. So many things didn’t add up, and no one seemed to question them. They all looked at me like I was crazy, and then I started having those dreams and, they weren’t real, I know, but they felt so… They felt like real memories; you know? Not just something my crazy brain made up to fuck with me.” Lizzie trailed off, obviously struggling to put everything into words.

 

Hope kept looking at Lizzie patiently, wondering kind of self-consciously if the other girl had felt Hope reach her from Malivore. If Lizzie had felt violated and scared of this unknown presence in her brain. If she had wondered whether it was another trick her brain was playing on her. Even though Hope knew now without a doubt that she hadn’t killed Lizzie, like she had thought while she was in Malivore, she still felt immense guilt from the pain she had caused the other girl through their psychic connection.

 

But hearing that Lizzie had immediately felt something was off, and those dreams… they didn’t sound like Hope’s attempts to contact Lizzie. It all made a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach. Maybe it was heartburn? Hope brushed the feeling aside and wondered instead if her connection to Lizzie was an illusion her brain created in the vast nothingness of Malivore to keep her entertained.

 

After a few seconds, both girls realised that they had gotten lost in their own thoughts, and the silence that stretched between them turned awkward with that realisation. Lizzie’s cheeks coloured, and Hope’s eyes flitted away from the other girl, worried that she had made Lizzie uncomfortable with her staring.

 

Lizzie cleared her throat, and ploughed on with her explanation in an attempt to dispel the tension. “So, the things I saw in those dreams, they were like alternate realities, and they were all so different, but the one constant was this girl, well… you, I guess,” She motioned self-consciously to Hope with an awkward laugh, “Hope Mikaelson. You seemed to be the turning point in each reality, so to say, and the more I learned about you from the dreams, the more it all seemed to fit into the missing pieces of the real world too.”

 

Lizzie was getting excited, laying it all out like that to Hope. It felt good to explain it all from the beginning, without the added pressure of someone questioning her sanity, or worrying for her life. Not to mention that the actual proof that she wasn’t crazy was literally sitting in front of her.

 

“Like, ok, so once I remembered your name, things started to make sense! Like why Klaus Mikaelson basically made it possible to start the school, or the initials on all the clothes in that spare room,” after mentioning the room, Lizzie remembered that she had basically moved in, which caused her to falter in her explanation for just a second, as a fresh wave of embarrassment hit her. God, she was really beginning to sound like some crazy groupie.

 

Hope noticed Lizzie’s hesitation at the mention of her room, but didn’t have time to dwell on it, as the other girl had already moved on, getting more and more animated as she finally fit all of the pieces of the puzzle together out loud. Hope thought it was adorable, the way Lizzie got so invested and focused on something until she solved it. It was the same intensity with which she approached Hope when she first came to Salvatore, after her parents died, and back then it had scared Hope away. She was shy, and hurting, and Lizzie seemed larger than life. It was with that passion that years later, Lizzie suddenly hated Hope, just as intensely as she had wanted to be her friend before. One way or another, Hope has held Lizzie’s attention for a large part of her life, and it was familiar and comforting to feel it directed at herself again.

 

“And I just knew that bird boy couldn’t have been the one to defeat Malivore, you know?”

 

Before Lizzie could continue, Hope drew in a sharp breath at the mention of her… of Landon. Why was it that Hope kept forgetting to even wonder about him in the middle of all this? Wasn’t she supposed to worry whether or not he remembers her? If he moved on? Did he feel something was off like Lizzie did, or just carried on with his life as usual, taking it in stride that everyone thought he was the one to defeat Malivore?

 

Lizzie stopped talking, and looked over at the other girl curiously. Her reaction at the mention of that sentient jar of mayonnaise, that everyone was suddenly such a fan of, was intriguing. Yet something about the way Hope had gasped at the mention of him didn’t sit right with Lizzie. She shook the feeling off, and decided to continue with her explanation, since Hope didn’t seem to want to interrupt her.

 

“So… yeah… Landon was suddenly the big hero, which, like, made absolutely no sense. And then, other things just kept piling on, you know?” Lizzie made a vague gesture with her hand as if trying to wave them all away, “And everyone remembered that Josie somehow survived a Malivore bullet, and MG survived a werewolf bite, but no one seemed to really know how. It didn’t even bother them! Not to mention that Raf has been stuck as a werewolf for months, unable to change back. And even though hipster hobbit has been worried and everything, he still somehow didn’t seem to find it all that strange.” Lizzie sighed in exasperation and shrugged her shoulders after she finally laid out all the discrepancies that had led to on her search for the other girl.

 

Hope stayed quiet, trying to process everything that Lizzie had just said. When she spelled it out like that, it seemed so obvious, that Hope wondered how no one else had noticed any of it. So many unanswered questions, concerning basically all of her friends, and Lizzie was the only one to think it odd? Hope frowned, as she realised that maybe no one cared that much because they were all better off without her anyway. She cleared her throat, and voiced that thought out loud to Lizzie.

 

“What? No one has been better off without you Hope! Josie and I have barely spoken in months, Raf’s been stuck as a wolf for months for god’s sake, and I honestly think the new found hero status has gotten to Landon’s head. He’s not been handling popularity well, trust me.” Lizzie smiled at Hope and reached over to touch her hand for comfort.

 

As soon as their hands touched, that feeling from earlier returned. She saw Hope training with her dad from a distance, again and again as years seemed to go by. She felt the frustration and anger she must have felt then, the resentment aimed at Hope threatened to overwhelm her. But it was almost as if it was covering for another emotion entirely. One she wasn’t prepared to deal with back then.

 

Lizzie’s eyes widened, and she almost jerked her hand away, but even through the unexpected emotions she suddenly remembered, the relief of getting another piece of the puzzle back overpowered her surprise and she only held on tighter, squeezed Hope’s hand, and attempted a reassuring smile.

 

Hope noticed Lizzie’s odd reaction, but decided not to say anything. After such a long time in Malivore, physical contact felt amazing. Since the other girl was never much of a tactile person with anyone other than Josie, especially not with Hope it almost seemed like Lizzie needed some kind of reassurance that Hope was really there, and she was not one to deny her that, especially not when she was even more touch starved than ever.

 

The girls sat in the kitchen for a while longer, Lizzie filling Hope in on all the gossip from back at the school. As if by some unspoken agreement, they avoided anything too heavy or emotional, and Lizzie even managed to make Hope laugh with her overly dramatic retellings of teenage drama. It was easy, and nice being around each other like that, with Hope choosing to ignore that this was an entirely new dynamic for them, and with Lizzie only starting to piece that together, they both chose to just enjoy each other’s company.

 

After what seemed like a few hours, and many cups of hot chocolate later, the two went back to their separate rooms, if somewhat reluctantly. Hope wasn’t comfortable with being alone so soon after her forceful isolation, and Lizzie didn’t want to let Hope out of her sight for longer than she had to. She had touched Hope every chance she had, but she also didn’t want to overwhelm the other girl, or make her uncomfortable. Hope had known Lizzie practically their whole lives, and that had to mean she knew how selective Lizzie was with who she let into her personal space. But getting those flashes of memories were addictive, and Lizzie was craving them more with each touch. Every new thing she remembered made her feel more whole and less crazy. Every seemingly inconsequential moment from their past, a stray biting remark, a flash of a smirk, an angry jab: they all added to the puzzle that was Hope Mikaelson. And even if a less than favourable picture of their relationship was beginning to develop for Lizzie with every snippet of a memory regained, there was always an undercurrent of something deeper and Lizzie absolutely had to figure out what it was.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew... It has certainly been a while! A LOT of shit has happened. Not in my life, because nothing happens in my life, but like, in the world in general.  
> Anyway... I'd love to say I have been working on this fic this entire time, and it is now all finished and well written, but in reality I have just banged this out in the last two days, because I have been procrastinating from doing actual work again. 
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy, and please do leave a comment, it fuels my vain, attention seeking heart!
> 
> Procrastination and attention are my only muses.  
> 


	7. Home is where the heart is, but that's not where mine lives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being around family that doesn't remember you is more painful than Hope was prepared for. Good thing Lizzie is there to distract her with confusing but not entirely unwelcome invasions of personal space.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, would you look at that?! Another update? So soon?
> 
> I have to thank everyone who left a comment, they honestly give me life and made me want to get another chapter out to you as soon as possible. 
> 
> Just a gentle reminder, that I do basically no research for these, so if there are any inconsistencies, or something doesn't quite follow the canon of TVD or TO, I will happily welcome gentle, constructive criticism and helpful tips! (like, don't be mean tho or I will literally stop writing this probably)
> 
> Anywhooo, enjoy, and as always *jaskier singing voice* "throw a comment to your writer"

It has been a couple of days since Hope was brought back and Lizzie was still the only one to have any memories of Hope at all, while the Mikaelsons and Josie, who had stayed behind to look after Lizzie still had no recollection of the tribrid. After a brief call to Alaric back at the school, their suspicions were confirmed that no one back there remembered the tribrid either. 

Hope had retreated into herself more and more with each uncomfortable interaction. It was a heart-breaking feeling, to have your own family look at you as if you were a stranger to them. Sure, Freya and Rebekah knew that Hope was their niece, and they obviously cared about her, and Hope could tell how hard they tried to make her feel like she belonged but most of their attempts just fell flat. 

Awkward silences hung around the manor longer and longer each day, and it was obvious to everyone in the house that the youngest Mikaelson was struggling to cope with her new reality. Every time Hope answered Freya’s question before she even asked it, or absentmindedly finished another one of Rebekah’s snarky comments, or passed something to Josie just as she was thinking of asking for it, only to get startled looks and unsure smiles in return, made her sadder and quieter until she barely managed to leave her room or speak to anyone. 

It was somehow different with Lizzie though. From what Hope understood of Freya’s explanation of how they brought her back, Lizzie had been her anchor, and a part of her soul had been in Malivore with Hope. They had used that connection to that missing piece back and brought Hope back with it. By some unspoken agreement, everyone decided to avoid getting into why and how exactly Lizzie became Hope’s anchor, but whatever it was, it must have made the girls more comfortable with each other on some fundamental level. Hope felt the most like herself in Lizzie’s presence. 

Even though their relationship was far from what it was before Malivore, Hope didn’t feel as awkward about knowing Lizzie better than she knew Hope. It wasn’t as demoralising with Lizzie, mostly because their friendship had been a new development, so in a way, they just picked up where they left off, but without the added baggage of their misplaced feud.

Every time Hope would slip up and act too familiar, Lizzie would look delighted instead of puzzled, she’d grab Hope’s hand in excitement, and stare at her in wonder. And what’s more, she was somehow just as familiar with Hope, if in a very different way than she was before Malivore.

After a couple of days, Hope started to suspect why that was. Beyond Lizzie’s memories of alternate realities that she had filled Hope in on in more detail that night they had talked for hours in the kitchen, it almost seemed like every time Lizzie touched Hope, she got some of her memories back. 

After Hope started to suspect that, it freaked her out a little bit. She was sure that the more Lizzie remembered, the less she would want to hang out with Hope, and she would only end up alone again. But a day passed, and then two, and Lizzie’s enthusiasm for Hope’s company did the opposite of waning. She became more protective and any time Hope was in her orbit Lizzie found a way to make sure they were touching in some way. If Hope sat down next to Lizzie on the sofa, the other girl would almost immediately adjust her position so that her knee pressed into Hope’s thigh, or she would shuffle closer, pressing into Hope’s side, seemingly in order to free up space on the sofa for Josie. 

And as much as Hope had avoided getting too close to anyone since her parents died, coming back from Malivore only made her realise just how touch starved and lonely she really was. She didn’t feel like she could seek that comfort from her aunts right now, but Lizzie offered it freely, so Hope wasn’t about to question the blonde’s ever-increasing need for physical contact. 

Late in the morning on the third day after Malivore, or AM, as Hope had come to refer to it in her head with a hint of malicious humour, Hope was hiding away in the kitchen, while Josie and Freya went off to the latter’s study to discuss something or other and Rebekah was on the phone with Kol and Davina in the main living room. Of course, neither one of them remember Hope either, and since they hadn’t been to the Mikaelson mansion in a while, hadn’t even suspected that someone may have been missing from their memories. Just as Hope was about to dive into another one of her maybe-everyone-is-better-off-without-me spirals, Lizzie walked sauntered into the kitchen.

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you,” she skimmed a hand over Hope’s shoulders as she passed by behind her on her way to the fridge, “There was actually something I wanted to talk to you about,” Lizzie threw over her shoulder as she opened the fridge, and stared into it for a few moments, lost in thought. 

Hope tensed involuntarily at those words, wondering if Lizzie was about to tell her that she remembered they weren’t really friends before Hope decided to erase herself from existence, so there was no point in Lizzie sticking around here any longer. Hop has actually begun to wonder when the twins would decide to go back to school, and leave her here. 

Lizzie examined the contents of the fridge for a few more seconds, unaware of Hope’s sudden tension, then grabbed a bottle of water and an apple, before shutting it again and walking back to the table. As she passed Hope, Lizzie dropped the apple off at her side, and settled into stool on the opposite side of the kitchen island from Hope. 

“So I just got off the phone with my dad,” Lizzie continued, completely unaware of Hope’s puzzled expression, directed first at the apple now sitting in front of her on the table, then at Lizzie, who casually opened her bottle of water and took a sip before setting it down, “And he said we should probably be thinking about getting back to school soon…” Lizzie looked up at Hope then, noticing her puzzled expression, that quickly turned to an alarmed one at her worries being proven right. The twins were leaving her. 

“You ok?” Lizzie asked, concern lacing her words.

“What, yeah, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be? Obviously, you guys can’t stay here forever,” Hope shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. 

“Yeah…” Lizzie frowned, taking a long look at Hope, suddenly realising how tense the other girl was. “Look, I know you’ve just been through… A lot, to say the least. And I totally get it if you want to stay home and avoid school until your aunts figure out how to get everyone’s memories back, but I just thought…” Lizzie stopped herself before she said that she thought Hope would want to stay close to her. Just because Lizzie was obsessed with getting her memories back, and thus being around Hope as much as she could, didn’t meant that the other girl was comfortable with Lizzie’s constant hovering.

Hope let out a sigh of relief. She smirked at Lizzie’s rambling, and reached for the apple taking a large, juicy bite. It was nice to see Lizzie squirm for a few seconds, clearly trying to avoid saying that she wanted Hope to come back to school with them. She swallowed her bite, and said with a cocky smirk, “Are you asking me to come back to Salvatore with you, Saltzman?”

Lizzie felt her cheeks turn red as her eyes followed the movement of Hope’s tongue, as she licked off the juice from her lips, with a little too much concentration. Shaking off the weighted moment, Lizzie smirked right back at Hope, a familiar urge to one up the other girl in their verbal exchange rising up. 

“Are you enjoying that apple, Mikaelson?”

“Are you avoiding answering my question, so you won’t have to say it out loud?” Hope leaned on her forearms over the counter, face inching closer to Lizzie’s, who found herself mirroring that position.

Before Lizzie could admit defeat, or come up with a good retort to Hope’s admittedly very insightful question, Rebekah walked into the kitchen, finishing up her conversation with Kol on the phone. She spared the two girls a curious glance, before bidding her brother goodbye. 

“Kol and Davina send their regards,” Rebekah smiled over at her niece, hoping to bring a fraction of a smile back to her face that had disappeared as soon as she had walked into the kitchen. 

Hope sat back in her chair, all previous playfulness gone, once again reminded of her situation. She knew her aunt was only trying to be nice, but the sentiment felt hollow, especially since they both knew Hope heard most of their conversation from the other room, and knew how hard it was for Rebekah to convince Kol and Davina that she wasn’t just messing with them in an attempt to lure them back to New Orleans. 

Or maybe it was that they didn’t both know. Everyone was still wrapping their heads around the whole tribrid business, unsure of what powers Hope had exactly. She was aware how odd the combination was, and that most people just lumped her in with the witches, it was just odd for her own family to do that too. 

Lizzie noticed Hope’s abrupt mood shift, and reached out with her foot under the table to bump against Hope’s shin in a show of support. She smiled at the girl once she caught her eyes and watched as some of the tension left her. 

“Yeah that’s, thanks,” Hope managed, still looking over at Lizzie, before shifting her eyes to Rebekah, “So are they still making their way through Europe then?”

“They’ve actually been hanging around Belgium the last couple of months. Davina found an ancient coven that’s allowed her to stay and learn with them, not that she hasn’t been able to teach them a thing or two herself,” Rebekah smirked at the last part. “But I’ve actually asked them to come back, in light of… well, our current predicament…”

“You mean the fact that no one in my family knows I exist?” Hope couldn’t resist the petulant remark

Rebekah studied her niece for a beat, “I mean the fact that my niece decided to carry on the family legacy of being a self-sacrificing moron and managed to erase herself from our memories,” she raised her eye brow at Hope, daring the younger girl to disagree.

Lizzie did a double take at Rebekah’s frankness, no one has dared call Hope out on her heroic antics yet. But maybe it has been exactly what Hope needed, not to be coddled, but called out for her incredibly stupid stunt. As chastised as she felt by Rebekah’s remark, it was also the closest thing to a normal interaction they’ve had since she’s been brought back. 

The vampire sighed at the sight, taking a seat beside Hope and squeezing her shoulder in comfort. “Darling, I understand how tough this whole thing has been on you, but you’ve got to understand it hasn’t exactly been a walk in the part of any one of us either. Freya hasn’t slept in days, trying to figure out how to restore our memories of you. You are family, and it is killing us that we don’t remember you. Kol and Davina will come back soon, and rest assures that we will exude every ounce of our considerable influence to find a way to bring you properly back to us.”

Hope tried hard to swallow the lump in her throat, and blinked away the tears threatening to form in her eyes. The conviction in Rebekah’s voice, her determined expression, were so painfully familiar that for the first time since Malivore Hope felt like she belonged in her own home with and with her own family. 

“Thanks, I… that means a lot to me,” Hope attempted a watery smile

“Of course, we don’t want you to ever doubt that you are a vital part of this family.”

“I don’t doubt it, it’s just…”

“You’ve felt out of place with us the last couple of days.”

Hope hung her head at Rebekah’s remark. However true it was, it also made Hope feel guilty. Her aunts have worked very hard to get her back, and were being incredibly patient and kind with her now, and all she has been able to do it distance herself further and further away, instead of spending this time getting reacquainted with her family.

Rebekah and Lizzie exchanged worried glances at Hope’s dejected expression, and the older of the two blondes tried to change the subject, “Have you talked to your father already, little witch?” she asked Lizzie.

“Yeah, I was just telling Hope about it actually. Dad wants us to come back to school, and he said that maybe Hope should come back with us…” Lizzie looked over at Rebekah, uncertain how she would receive that idea.

“I agree with Dr Saltzman actually. He called us last night, and Freya and I thought it was a good idea for you to get out of the house for a bit,” Rebekah turned to Hope, trying to gauge her reaction to that idea, “I know you’ve been trying really hard to hide it, but we can all see how difficult it has been for you to be here while your own family doesn’t remember you. And from what we all understand, you lived at the school pretty much full time anyway, so it might be good to return to a familiar reality, one that isn’t burdened by the baggage of your family home…”

Hope’s mood lifted slightly at her aunt’s words. Truth be told, she had thought the same thing herself, but was hesitant to bring it up to her aunts lest they feel like she didn’t want to be around them. The guilt she felt at wanting to go back to school lessened considerably. It was nice knowing that Lizzie wanted her to come back too, even if she tried to avoid saying it out loud. 

Hope allowed a rare smile to bloom on her face, looking at Rebekah and then Lizzie gratefully, “Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to you and aunt Freya about that too, I just didn’t know how.”

“Don’t you worry, little one, just because I can’t remember every little detail about you yet, doesn’t mean I love you any less, or that you should walk on egg shells around me. And I know I can speak for Freya as well. You are undeniably a Mikaelson, and that is all that matters.”

Aunt and niece shared a tender moment, and for a few seconds all seemed well. A big chunk of anxious weight was lifted off Hope’s shoulders at Rebekah’s proclamation, and she almost thought that staying at home wouldn’t be so bad after all, but the thought of being so far away from Lizzie was enough to dissuade that notion. Why exactly Hope found the thought of being separated from the blonde twin so unacceptable, she would leave to be examined at a later date.

“So, is it decided then? You are coming back to school with us,” Lizzie decided to end the moment the two were having in front of her, since it got a little uncomfortable after a couple of loaded seconds. 

Rebekah threw a knowing glance in Lizzie’s direction, but held back from commenting on the other girl’s eagerness. She simply stood up from the table, and with a final meaningful look at her niece headed for the door, “I shall inform my sister of the decision then, you two enjoy your last day in New Orleans. Tomorrow you will be going back to the Salvatore Boarding School.”


	8. Third Wheelin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josie's POV for a change. What exactly has the other Saltzman twin been feeling this whole time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who left a comment on the last chapter! They all made my day and made me want to write more!
> 
> This chapter was meant to be a quick filler but kind of got away from me. I had fun with it though.  
> Haven't read this chapter through though, so hopefully it all fits together. I honestly had no idea what I was saying by the end.  
> Hope you still like it, even though there isn't any Hizzie in it, but this is my way of beginning to set up some background Posie!  
> Hizzie will be back next chapter, and it is partially written already so shouldn't be too long! (especially not if there is enough comments to motivate me!)

Josie has now lived in the Mikaelson mansion for… about three weeks. And despite her early reservations she had gotten used to it almost immediately. Freya was a much better teacher than Josie has ever had and she wondered sometimes whether the older witch was simply a natural, or if it was the result of practice from pretty much raising her niece. Either way, considering the current situation, she wasn’t about to ask.

 

Speaking of said niece, just a few days ago, Hope has been brought back from Malivore in a spell unlike any Josie had seen before. She got goose bumps just thinking about that spell, days after she witnessed it happen. The sheer force of the magical energy that had coursed through every witch in that room, only to be concentrated on Lizzie was astounding. There was a point at which Josie honestly got scared that Lizzie wouldn’t survive it, and she slammed shut the twin connection in a panic, because of how much pain she felt seeping through it. This Hope girl had better be worth it, Josie thought at the time with a healthy amount of fear induced malice.

 

This maliciousness, was something new that Josie had discovered she was capable of. Well, it wasn’t exactly new, but definitely something she had only recently allowed herself to succumb to. Maybe a healthy dose of it was warranted given everything that was going on in her life as of late.

 

Where ever it came from, (Penelope’s parting remarks, Josie knew, of course, but refused to allow herself to dwell on) this new found darkness meshed really well with Josie’s current environment, and Freya was able to sense it in the younger witch. Unlike Alaric, the Mikaelsons weren’t prone to fearing the darker side of magic, and Freya was more than happy to take Josie under her wing to guider her through exploring that part of herself and her magic. She had plenty of resources at hand, and Josie tore through any ancient text Freya gave her with a hunger.

 

Having worked on the research for the soul mending spell with Freya and Keelin, and then seeing it brought to life in front of her very eyes was the most educational experience Josie has had with magic. It was a welcome change from the theory-heavy magical curriculum at Salvatore. Josie was loath to think that soon, after her sister fully recovered from the spell that had brought back Hope and almost killed Lizzie in the process, she would have to go back to the boarding school, where her dad forbade all dark magic, and heavily restricted practical applications of it too.

 

Josie sighed as she made her way upstairs after getting a glass of water to put by Lizzie’s bedside. Despite all of their recent differences, Josie had gotten so scared for her sister during the spell earlier, that she had refused to leave her side for hours, only agreeing to go fetch some water and let Freya and Keelin run a couple of their diagnostic tests on Lizzie in the meantime.

 

On her way down the corridor to Lizzie’s room, Josie passed the room that the Hope girl was brought to, and was able to peek through the slightly ajar door. Rebekah was standing over the girl, who looked like she was trying to sit up in the bed, mumbling something that Josie couldn’t make out from where she was standing. She seemed frantic and desperate to get out of bed, but she must have still been pretty out of it, because she struggled with sitting up much less getting out of bed.

 

Rebekah put a steadying hand on Hope’s shoulder, and gently coaxed her to lie back down. In a voice so unlike Rebekah’s customary sarcastic drawl she said, “Lizzie is alive Hope, darling. You didn’t kill her; she is just sleeping it off in the next room over. Why don’t you both recover fully and then you can go see for yourself in the morning?”

 

That Josie heard loud and clear. The words sounded practiced, like Rebekah has had to repeat them more than once. They seemed to work on Hope, and she calmed down considerably, before settling back into her pillows and passing out almost immediately.

Rebekah reached out to carefully push some hair back off of Hope’s brow, and the look  on her face was so vulnerable and loving, that for a second Josie wondered whether she has found some way to remember her niece. But the moment passed, and Rebekah tucked Hope in and headed towards the door.

 

Josie panicked, only now realising that she had effectively been spying on a very private moment, and somehow Rebekah didn’t strike her as someone who would appreciate being caught in a moment of weakness. Josie’s heart sped up, but before she could even think about walking off and pretending she didn’t see anything, Rebekah opened the door the rest of the way and came face to face with Josie.

 

The older vampire didn’t seem the least bit surprised or angry to see Josie there, and after gently closing the door behind herself beckoned for Josie to lead the way to Lizzie’s room down the hall. Josie watched Rebekah out of the corner of her eye, clutching the glass of water she was still carrying nervously.

 

Rebekah must have caught on to Josie’s apprehension, because she passed the girl a reassuring smile, and said in the same gentle voice, “Hope’s been waking up every so often, in a panic, looking for Lizzie. She thinks she killed her. Keeps saying that everyone around her dies and we should have just left her in Malivore…” Rebekah paused, a pensive and dejected look in her eyes, “I suppose that would be the result of childhood trauma associated with being a member of this family, I can’t remember how her parents’ death affected her, but I can imagine it didn’t make for a healthy growing up environment.”

 

Josie avoided looking at Rebekah directly, still a little unsure around this version of the older vampire. In all honesty, the more time she spent with the Mikaelsons, the more she realised they were much more human than they let on, or than anyone gave them credit for. Working on that spell with Freya during countless hours, she has seen her vulnerable and emotional side. The moments of frustration and fatigue that brought out a vulnerable side of the ancient witch. But Rebekah had always seemed much more collected and aloof to Josie. A dangerously powerful ancient being masked with sarcastic charm and snapping wit. This was a very different side of her indeed.

 

“Lizzie’s been asking about Hope as well,” she said as they reached the door of her sister’s room, “I don’t know how much she remembers Hope, but it’s clear that she cares so much about her, and I just… I’m so worried about her, you know?” Josie avoided Rebekah’s inquisitive gaze, afraid to tell her that she’s been unsure about Hope, about the whole Mikaelson family.

 

Rebekah seemed to understand everything Josie wasn’t saying out loud, and she smiled reassuringly at the younger witch. There weren’t a lot of good rumors flying around about their family, so a healthy dose of caution was smart. “Your sister has done a great service for our family Josie. Family is everything to us, and Lizzie took a great risk coming to us the way she did to ask for help. We will always be grateful to her. And to you for sticking around and working so hard on the spell that brought Hope back, even if you were only doing it for your sister.”

 

Before Josie could think of a reply, Freya made her way out of Lizzie’s room after she had finished with her check-up. When she noticed Josie and Rebekah stood outside the door, she motioned for them to make their way further down the corridor after lightly shutting the door behind herself, on order not to wake Lizzie up. She looked closely at Josie before passing her sister a meaningful look.

 

“I just checked Lizzie over, and she is doing great, all things considered. She’ll most likely be out for quite a while yet, so you should take a rest too, Bambi. I know the spell must have affected you through the connection too, even if you’ve been putting such a brave face on,” Freya laid a comforting hand on Josie’s shoulder, trying to get her to relax somewhat. The girl had been on high alert since the spell, and Freya was starting to worry.

 

Josie tried to protest, but the stern looks from both Mikaelson sisters was enough to cut all of her arguments short, instead she smiled gratefully at the two, “I guess you’re right, but I’d still like to be there when Lizzie wakes up, so I think I’ll just crash in her room tonight.”

 

Freya nodded at Josie, and with a final fond smile at Josie turned around and led the way for her and Rebekah to return back to their wing of the house. The way her shoulders drooped and her feet shuffled in an uncharacteristically unrefined walk Josie realised that Freya must have been no less exhausted than herself.

 

She carried that thought, and her wonder at how comforted and at ease the Mikaelson sisters had just made her feel, with her all the way to the empty side of Lizzie’s bed. As her head hit the pillow, the last thought that passed through Josie’s mind was that this Hope girl better be worth it.

 

* * *

 

Josie woke up with a start a couple of hours later. The room was still dark, so she can’t have been asleep too long, but when she turned over to her other side, she realised that Lizzie’s side of the bed was empty. Even through Josie knew that was likely a good sign a jolt of irrational panic still forced her out of bed and in search for her sister. She just needed a glimpse of Lizzie awake to calm her mind and get rid of that sickening image of her twin sprawled on the floor, unmoving and so, so pale.

 

Something told her she would find Lizzie in the kitchen. Maybe it was their twin connection, or the fact that Lizzie had snuck into the kitchen practically every night since coming to New Orleans to drink hot chocolate, which Josie found very odd considering Lizzie never liked hot chocolate, even as a kid. Anyway, it was probably their twin connection, Josie has always been very sensitive to it and it definitely hasn’t been getting fainter and fainter.

 

Josie smiled to herself in triumph when she saw the light coming from the kitchen when she rounded the corner. As she came closer, she heard an unfamiliar voice, but before she could think that maybe she made a mistake she heard a decidedly more familiar one. Lizzie was definitely in the kitchen and she was talking to someone. Josie decided to stay put for a second, not wanting to interrupt what kind of sounded like a very personal conversation.

 

After a few minutes, and some careful movement closer to the door Josie realised that Lizzie was talking to Hope. Hearing her sister explain to this girl that everyone has forgotten how Lizzie had insisted on looking for her, how so many things didn’t add up, Josie felt guilty. In the whole time since Lizzie had come to the Mikaelsons for help and everyone realised that she was right about pretty much everything, Josie hadn’t stopped to think about how everyone had treated Lizzie like she was losing it. The way she explained it now, to Hope, it all made so much sense. All the inconsistencies and missing pieces led back to Hope, and somehow Lizzie was the only one who noticed and cared.

 

But something still didn’t sit right with Josie. She knew that Lizzie remembered some version of Hope, but even still, hearing the two of them speak so familiarly with each other set of all kinds of alarm bells in her mind. The way Lizzie said Hope’s name just… it made a strange feeling rise in Josie’s stomach, one that seemed too familiar, yet she couldn’t place it. She figured it must have something to do with her missing memories and wondered whether there was something dangerous about Hope that no one could remember now. That thought made her worry about Lizzie all over again, and so Josie backed away from the kitchen door slowly, careful not to make any noise, and decided to figure out whatever it was about Hope that set her on edge.

 

As Josie made her way back to the room to wait for Lizzie, she took out her phone, trying to see if there was maybe something she could find about Hope on there. Maybe some photos, or text messages, but she knew it was futile. As she was scrolling through her texts, she saw an unopened one from Landon, and smiled fondly at her phone. The two of them had become very close over the summer, and at one point they both thought something might happen between them, but after one kiss they had mutually decided they’re much better off being friends.

 

It wasn’t that it was a bad kiss, it was very pleasant, and calm, and safe, and… boring. Kissing Landon was boring, not that Josie ever told him that. But it was. And if Josie were to be completely honest with herself, she would admit that it was because he wasn’t Penelope. There was none of that passion, those volatile emotions there. It was just so… pleasantly ordinary. And as much as Josie tried to tell herself she hated Penelope, and her constant drama, they really did walk that fine line between love and hate since their breakup, and it honestly electrified Josie.

 

Josie tried to shake herself out of thinking about Penelope yet again. It seemed like no matter how preoccupied her mind should have been with literally anything else, she always kept coming back to her ex. She reminded herself once again of Penelope’s abhorrent parting gift, and… That thought made her pause. As morally wrong and borderline sociopathic as Josie found what Penelope did, she never did throw away the journal that Penelope gave her, and now Josie realised how useful it could be in finding anything on Hope that she could.

 

Josie reached back for her phone that she had let fall at her side while she fell back down the Penelope rabbit hole, and brought up her chat with Landon. Disregarding his text wondering about how Lizzie was doing, Josie hurriedly typed out instructions about finding the journal Penelope gave her and looking for any mentions of Hope in it. With a second text Josie told Landon not to tell anyone about it, and promised to explain everything later.

 

After staring at her phone for a minute, impatiently waiting for Landon’s reply, Josie realised that it was the middle of the night, and he likely wouldn’t read her texts until morning anyway. Reluctantly she put away her phone and decided to go back to sleep. Despite the excitement of remembering about the spy journal Josie fell back asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, this time her last waking thought circling back to Penelope, and how even after she had left, Josie still couldn’t get rid of her. And maybe she didn’t want to in the first place.

 

* * *

 

Next few days Josie spent observing Hope and Lizzie together. Landon had told her he found the journal, but was kind of vague about what exactly he read in it. His reluctance to share with her put Josie more on edge and only seemed to confirm her suspicions about Hope. Seeing them together in the light of day, almost constantly by each other’s side, made more of that weird feeling well up inside. The way Lizzie looked at Hope turned Josie’s stomach and she tried to avoid the two girls as much as she could.

 

Josie couldn’t help but watch Hope despite this unease at her presence. She was the one that remembered everyone and everything, yet she was also the most on edge. Every time Hope would anticipate a question, or a remark of one of her aunts she would look almost apologetic and retreat more into herself. Once, Hope passed Josie a pen that was on her side of the table just as Josie was about to ask for it, and they started at each other for a few awkward seconds, Josie slightly surprised and Hope almost looking embarrassed that she had anticipated what Josie needed.

 

Hope had blushed and made up some excuse to hurry out of the room looking incredibly uncomfortable and Josie had followed her with her eyes, a fleeting thought of how cute she had looked blushing passing through her head before she made eye contact with Lizzie, who didn’t look too pleased at the interaction. Almost on instinct Josie thought defensively that she had dibs anyway, which made absolutely no sense, and she shrugged at Lizzie before going back to her research. She did notice her sister follow Hope out of the corner of her eye, and that annoying feeling she still couldn’t place settled in the pit of her stomach again.

 

By the end of the first day, Josie was sure she didn’t want to spend any more time than necessary around Hope and Lizzie, and by the time their dad called to tell them it was time to come back to school and Lizzie decided that Hope was coming too, Josie had made up her mind to stay in New Orleans. Just the thought of being a third wheel all the way back to Virginia in a small car with Hope and Lizzie and their weirdly intense energy was enough. Plus, she wanted to learn more from Freya, and the older witch had practically agreed to make Josie her apprentice, which was a once in a life time opportunity that she wasn’t about to pass up.

 

So, after Lizzie told Hope they were going back to school, Josie dropped the bomb. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Freya had totally expected Josie’s decision, and already worked everything out with Alaric apparently. Hope seemed a bit surprised, and Lizzie, well she was happy Josie decided to stay back for a while, but was trying to hide it from everyone, including herself. Josie, however, had always been an expert at reading her sister and saw right through it. Seemed like both Saltzman twins were happy there would be no third wheeling on the long drive back to school.


End file.
